


Cat and Mouse Games

by wolfiefics



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: But thought I should add these JUST IN CASE, Drugged Sex, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obi-Wan is hot, Sith Qui-Gon Jinn, Sith Qui-Gon is not THAT much of a monster, There is NO rape or forced sex, These last two tags infer being drugged not for sexual purposes but for mind manipulation, a bit of humor I hope, but I am a wimp when it comes to pain, but maybe not to others, consideration of rape and non-consensual but it doesn't happen, do you blame Qui-Gon?, happy ending guaranteed, honey pot plot, if you have questions let me know, just ignorantly in love with Obi-Wan, kind of rough sex to me, love/lust at first sight, playing fast and loose with canon, the power of Obi-Wan's ass compels you, this situation is at near end of the story, triggering people bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfiefics/pseuds/wolfiefics
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn fell a long time ago. He defeated the Sith apprentice known as Darth Sidious with little effort and is under the tutelage of Darth Plagueis. The two have a plan to bring the Galactic Republic to its knees, and the Jedi to fall. With the rise of the Separatists movement under the Sith control, Darth Vindictus goes to Kamino to check on the progress of the clone army at the same time Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi arrives to find out what is going on there. Just a glimpse of Kenobi and Vindictus is obsessed. Nothing matters more now, than to bring Kenobi to his side as his own Sith apprentice and his lover.But does Obi-Wan have a trick up his sleeve?
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 78
Kudos: 237





	1. I've Just Seen a Face, I Can't Forget the Time or Place Where We First Met

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason I’ve become obsessed with Sith!Qui-Gon. No idea why. I’d formerly avoided the concept like the plague but here we are. Any resemblance to Beatles’ song titles or lyrics as chapter titles is completely and totally coincidental. (innocent whistling) I thought it would be a fun quirk to the story. And I’m a big Beatlemaniac. You can never go wrong with the Beatles. I mean, THE BEATLES!
> 
> Oh and I’m playing fast and loose with canon events during the Clone Wars. It might be aggravating to some canon-nerds, but well, some spots were just too ideal to use that I just couldn’t resist.
> 
> Also some of the chapters are short. I ended where I wanted the spot to end for effect. So, sorry. :(

Darth Vindictus sloughed the rain off as he walked sedately toward the door leading into the Kaminoan floating platform that was Tipoca City. A willowy tall being, hairless and pale, waved him in with a congenial air.

“Welcome, Qui-Gon Jinn,” the being said. “I am Taun We. I hope your travel was uneventful.”

Vindictus resisted the urge to gut her and instead smiled amiably. “Most pleasant, Taun We. I have come to inspect the Jedi Order’s clone army.” Appearances for anyone watching needed to be maintained.

Taun We bowed her head respectfully. “Most certainly, Qui-Gon Jinn. Please follow me.” She paused before waving him to follow her and added in a very low voice he could barely discern, “You might be interested to know that we have been contacted by the Jedi Temple regarding the clones as well. We expect a representative from them soon.”

Vindictus couldn’t help but feel a spurt of pleasure at that. ‘The fools are taking the bait,’ he thought with satisfaction. Outloud he said, “Thank you for the warning, Taun We. If this Jedi arrives, please make sure he is well away from my location and give me warning?”

Taun We gave another sweeping nod of her small head balanced on a long, but delicate neck. “Of course. Please, this way.”

He followed the female Kaminoan and sank into the Force, sweeping the entire facility and its inhabitants. His satisfaction grew. A goodly number of Kaminoans, but not enough to be a hazard if a fight occurred. The clones might be a bit of a problem, programmed as they were to see Jedi as leaders above all, but still nothing to worry about. For all intents and purposes, the clones were children playing grown-up games.

He listened with half an ear as Taun We expounded upon the cloning facility and technology, the training and educational programs the clones were subjected to, and that all was on schedule for the first shipment. He was opening his mouth to comment when there was a chirp from a small pouch hanging at her waist.

Taun We lifted the comm device within and said in her calm, modulated voice, “Yes?”

Another Kaminoan, male if the deep voice was anything to go by, spoke, “The Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi is breaking atmosphere and will be landing shortly. Prime Minister Lama Su asks that you attend him.”

Taun We looked at Vindictus even as she replied, “Of course. I have one small errand first and then I will greet our guest.”

Vindictus gave a wide smile. “I take it my presence remains between the two of us?” he asked archly.

He swore her rather immobile mouth gave an answering smile. “Naturally. The narrow-mindedness of our Prime Minister should not get in the way of a profitable partnership between us. Please, follow me and I will give you comfortable quarters well away from the Jedi.”

He bowed his head graciously, insides doing a jig, and followed her down a maze of white corridors until she stopped at a door, opened it with a card that she then handed to him, and said, “If you will remain here for the time being, I will see to our new guest. If I am able to get away, I would be pleased to dine with you this evening.”

He entered, looked around at the spartan, serviceable chambers and answered, “I look forward to it, Taun We.” The door closed and he was left alone.

Sinking to his knees and diving head first into the Force, Vindictus knew the moment the Jedi’s ship landed on the main platform. He followed the progress of a beacon of Light throughout the facility as the Jedi too was given an inspection tour. Vindictus smothered a laugh at the horror the Jedi was dampening down.

Once the Jedi was in his own guest rooms, Vindictus shook off his meditation, used the fresher to relieve himself, and scanned the food processor for a suitable drink to toast he and his master’s success at once again drawing the Jedi into their elaborate web. He settled on tea. It was an old habit from his old life, but still brought him a measure of delight. Alcohol, intoxicants, sex and pain had their moments and uses, but nothing was quite like a good cup of tea.

He smirked. He was becoming quite the hedonist. Idly he wondered if he could snag one of the clones, some defect perhaps, for a personal play thing. He would put the question to Taun We. If she balked, well, there were many methods of persuasion.

He sat in quiet contemplation of the little fantasy until Taun We pinged his door. He opened it to her and remained calm in the face of her agitation. Kaminoans showed little emotion but Taun We radiated discontent in the Force.

“What is it?” he asked.

She seemed to be considering her words. “I do not think the Jedi are going to accept the army we are creating for them.”

Vindictus frowned. “Why do you think that?”

Her head swayed from side to side almost erratically. “After years of dealing with clients, you learn tells for different species. Like you, the Jedi is human. His scent, his mannerisms, and his tone indicate dismay and repulsion. He will argue to his superiors to reject the clones, I am certain of it.”

Vindictus thought about this and made an impulsive decision. “Does he stay?”

“Yes. He has requested to speak with some of our clone commanders.”

He smiled. “Show me this Jedi.”

* * *

A man in drab brown robes and even more drab cream-colored clothing stood watching the clones through a viewing window train in hand-to-hand combat. A few clones, faces and build disturbingly identical, stood with him at straight attention. Vindictus surveyed the group from an upper story, ready to sink himself into the Dark Side and begin tweaking the Jedi’s weak mind to accept the clone army being made for him and his brethren.

The Jedi turned to speak with one of the clones and Vindictus sucked in a gasp as if he’d been punched. Such beauty wasted on a damned monk! Copper-gold hair curled around his collar, a beard a barest shade darker closely hugged his jawline and upper lip, and he moved with an easy grace that bespoke of a man comfortable in his body, lithe and powerful as it was. Vindictus was instantly hard. Instinct, and impulse, screamed for him to grab up this Jedi in a powerful Force grip, drag him to Vindictus’ bed and take him, by force if needs be.

No. That was rash. That would undo years of work and calculations. Challenging though it would undoubtedly be with this Jedi, Vindictus never cared for rape. There was no pleasure had if it wasn’t received in return. Seduction was so much better than force. Breaking down the inhibitions, sweet-talking past the doubts and concerns, and gently caressing desire and passion into bloom to override all other thoughts. That was better. That was true surrender.

Vindictus eyed the Jedi. He was too far away to get eye color but with that hair, green was a sure bet. In those hideous layers, it was hard to get a good discernment of build but the Jedi was a bit shorter than the clones around him, thinner. A dancer, a gymnast, an acrobat, then, not a tank or front line warrior who could take a beating like Vindictus.

He shivered. Delicious.

These thoughts were distracting, though, and Vindictus wrestled them under control for the time being. He needed to be focused. Subtle manipulations of minds took concentration. A Jedi was no easy mark so Vindictus knew he would have to be extra careful and extra focused. One slip could bring about the downfall of the Siths’ plans.

Like a shadow, Vindictus sent out his essence into the Jedi’s strong Force signature. Very strong, in fact, which made it a pleasing challenge. Vindictus slithered about and prodded here and there the Jedi’s shields, looking for a crack or weak spot where he could sneak in and begin his tweaking.

There. Worry. The Jedi was worried and there was a waver in his shields at that point. Vindictus concentrated, shielding himself and his presence as much as possible and wormed his way into the Jedi’s consciousness.

He was slammed with brilliant light and a powerful psyche. He physically staggered and almost lost control. Over and over the Jedi was repeating “This is wrong. This is wrong. This is wrong.” It was a mantra but the doubt and worry came in with an addendum of “but what choice do we have?” Perfect.

‘Think of the lives in danger,’ prompted Vindictus. ‘The clones are made to be destroyed. They are bred for it. If the Jedi lead them, there will be less casualties for both clones and civilians.’

He kept his eyes on the Jedi, who frowned and gave his head a shake as if warding off a buzzing sound.

‘If the Republic falls and the Jedi do nothing,’ Vindictus noted in the Jedi’s mind, ‘who will be blamed?’

He quickly withdrew, knowing that to stay longer risked exposure, risked the Jedi wondering where these thoughts were coming from and examining their origins more closely.

Vindictus physically pulled back as well, keeping the handsome Jedi just barely in sight. “What did you say his name is?” he asked Taun We in a low tone.

“Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she answered promptly.

“Kenobi,” Vindictus murmured. The name was a caress to his soul. “Obi-Wan.”

He turned on a black-booted foot and left the overlook. Distance was needed, for more than one reason. “Tell me when I can leave. I shall inform Lord Plagueis that your work here, Taun We, is, as usual, of the top-notch quality. You have the gratitude of the future lords of the galaxy.”

He heard a little trill of pleasure from her but ignored it. Gratitude, yes. Long life? No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 06/28/20:  
> Title is from the song "I've Just Seen a Face" on the album/soundtrack Help!, written by Lennon-McCartney but as sun by Paul, likely completely written entirely by him.


	2. When I Get Near You, The Games Begin to Drag Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me on [Tumblr](https://wolfiefics.tumblr.com/)! Babble incoherently about this story, other stories, your personal headcanons, plot bunnies you wish to inflict on me, whatever! I accept anon, but not trolls or flames. The latter will be roasted over a nice pretty bonfire and then allowed to blow away in the breeze.
> 
> Admittedly a short chapter. I might post #3 tonight, depending on how much I feel like torturing you all. (evil Sith cackle) Oh, and you would not believe how hard it was to continually spell Geonosis correctly. I apparently have a mental block on that planet.

Vindictus’ ship landed with a small plume of dust on the planet of Geonosis. Its landscape, barren and pockmarked with hives of the native inhabitants, nauseated Vindictus. He reasoned with himself that it was a holdover from his time as a Jedi who embraced the Living Side of the Force. He snorted. Such tripe. True power was with the Dark Side. He saw that now and embraced it wholeheartedly.

He stepped down the short ramp and walked with a steady pace toward the nearest hive cell, drawn inexplicably to his master. He tamped down his disgust at being under the thumb of another but mollified himself that it wouldn’t matter one day. He would be the master and he would need an apprentice.

Vindictus’ thoughts flashed to a vision of red hair and an athletic build. Perhaps, he allowed, before cloaking his mind of such thoughts quickly. If Darth Plagueis got wind that Darth Vindictus was considering a regime change, the fallout would be…messy.

He entered the main hive corridor, ignoring the muted buzz of the Geonosians in surrounding cells. A tall human with a large frame, Vindictus had to occasionally duck or even crouch as he made his way to the main control center of the hive. Once at the door to the control room, he paused, took a breath to gather himself and then stepped within.

“Ah, my apprentice,” welcomed Plagueis, his voice oily and purring, “welcome back. Was the trip successful?”

Human faced Munn and the former went to one knee in supplication. “Better than we hoped, my lord,” Vindictus replied. “A Jedi came while I was there, also to inspect the clone army. He was having doubts. I,” and here he lifted his head and grinned a toothy grin, “helped him make the wisest decision possible.”

The Munn Dark Lord of the Sith considered this a moment and then broke into maniacal peals of laughter. “Oh, you do delight me, Vindictus,” he chortled. As quickly as he dissolved into mirth, Plagueis became serious again. “I sense something else momentous occurred.” He waved a long-fingered hand in the direction of a purgatorial-looking chair. “Sit. Tell me.”

Inwardly cursing, Vindictus did as he was bid. “What do you wish to know, my lord?” he asked in an attempt to play dumb.

Plagueis merely smiled at him complacently. A small wrinkle marred the elongated forehead as a brief show of Plagueis’ displeasure at Vindictus’ word play. “I know your hedonistic tendencies well, my apprentice. Did you return with a new toy?”

Not a sexual being himself, Plagueis lived vicariously through Vindictus’ exploits. To each their own, he supposed. “No toy this time, my lord. I thought about having Taun We give me one of the defective clones but I managed to contain myself.”

Plagueis nodded. “That would be wise. The clone army is not yet deployed. No need to cast stones in the still pond at the moment. Time enough for that once the plan is fully in motion.” Those sharp, beady eyes gazed at Vindictus a long moment and he fought the urge to fidget. “What else?”

“My lord?” Vindictus asked, continuing to play dumb.

He paid for it. Pain lanced through his body as lightning suddenly arced from his master’s fingertips where they lay on folded knees. Vindictus contorted with the energy, trying not to cry out and failing. He crumpled to the ground in front of his chair, gasping and panting when the lightning attack ceased.

“I am not a fool nor will I be treated as one,” Plagueis said congenially. “What else happened on Kamino?”

“The Jedi,” Vindictus gasped, in too much pain to prevaricate. “I want him.”

“Ah.” Plagueis stood up and paced a few steps. “Who is he?”

“Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Vindictus was still trying to get his twitching body under control when a booted foot slammed into his rib cage. “Fool!”

Vindictus curled instinctively, readying himself for more blows that never came. There was silence for a long while and eventually Vindictus uncurled himself and looked for his master. Plagueis was standing by one of the monitors, frowning intently at it.

Wondering if he could crawl away unnoticed, Vindictus straightened up and was on all fours when Plagueis spoke. “He is on the Jedi High Council. Trained by Master Yoda himself. He is accounted second only to Count Dooku as a swordsman. He is known in many circles as The Negotiator. To say he’s a silver-tongued devil would be an understatement. Were you sensed?”

Vindictus shook his head, realized Plagueis wasn’t looking at him, and spoke his answer instead. “No, my lord, I am certain. I was careful, cautious. I only fed his doubts and worries, nothing more.”

Plagueis grunted at that and tapped a finger on the control panel in front of him. “You have been an excellent apprentice, Darth Vindictus. More loyal, more malleable, and more intelligent than that arrogant fool Palpatine.” Plagueis whipped around and was on Vindictus in a flash. Cruel hands wrapped around the human Sith’s throat and squeezed. “Whatever betrayal you harbor in your heart, my apprentice, bury it deep. Now is not the time for a regime change. We have much to do, much to learn and a galaxy to bring to heel. Control yourself, my apprentice.” The grip loosened and one hand stroked Vindictus’ long brown hair as if comforting a child. “If we succeed or, better for you, an opportunity arises, you shall have your pretty toy, I promise.” Plagueis rose from his crouch and waved a dismissive hand. “Now, begone. I have to think.”

Vindictus staggered to his feet, rubbing his neck with one hand and his sore rib cage with the other. With as much dignity as he could muster, he left the control room. Once the door slid shut, he sagged against a rough-hewn wall. He couldn’t give into the rage here. It was still too close to his master. He regained his footing and made his way to the chamber assigned to him. It had a bed and a window to the bleak and foul landscape.

Vindictus collapsed on the bed and sank into a healing trance. It wasn’t the first time Darth Plagueis had rebuked him, but Vindictus knew that soon it would be the last. ‘More malleable, am I?’ he snarled to himself.

He needed a willing body for a good, brutal fuck and he needed it as soon as possible.

Rising to his feet, Vindictus made his way back through the warren of hives and to his ship. Once out of orbit of Geonosis, he set coordinates for Corellia. Not only would he find a willing body to quench his needs, he could sow a bit discord among the weak and easily led to further the Separatist cause.

Once the streaked stars of hyperspace began, Darth Vindictus indulged himself in a bit of fantasy: Darth Plagueis’ head on a pike, a warning to all not to piss off Darth Vindictus. There was a reason Qui-Gon Jinn took that name when he became a Sith Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 06/28/20:  
> Title comes from "I Want to Tell You" from the album Revolver, written by George Harrison and he did lead vocals as well. A hint: whoever has lead vocals (barring Ringo) was more often than not the writer of the song. Songs that have dual leads, such as "Day in the Life" from Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, those sections were written by whomever has the lead for that section.


	3. I'm Looking Through You, Where Did You Go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I start playing fast and loose with the Clone Wars chronology so now we diverge into AU territory. Sorry not sorry. Also, another short chapter, which is why you are getting a two-fer today. :)
> 
> Addendum: This is an edited post. I'd set up drafts for future postings and got the goofy things out of order. Previous Chapter 3 has been deleted. This is the correct one. Sorry for any confusion.

The war was progressing nicely, if Vindictus said so himself. The Grand (Clone) Army of the Republic was fully engaged with the droid army of the Separatists and currently Vindictus was striding down the corridor of the Galactic Senate, a newly appointed representative of some of the refugees clamoring for recognition from the Galactic Senate and thus financial aid and help in relocation to a less war-torn world. That he intended sabotage, covertly of course, was a no-brainer but the fools who accepted the soft-spoken former Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn didn’t know that.

He inwardly smirked. Lambs to the slaughter.

“Representative Jinn!” A voice called his name behind him and he stopped, turned and plastered a congenial smile on his face. He searched the crowd for his hailer but came up empty for a moment.

Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan emerged from the crowd, smiling broadly at him. Vindictus couldn’t pay much attention to the bombastic fool because he was breath taken by the vision of manhood accompanying Organa.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Senator Organa,” Vindictus greeted congenially, mentally slapping himself and hoping to the Sith gods he wasn’t drooling.

“I want to make you known to Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Organa introduced. He then turned and elbowed Kenobi teasingly in the ribs. “Or should I say, _General_ Kenobi?”

Kenobi rolled beautiful green-blue eyes that made Vindictus immediately think of tropical seas and what he could do with Kenobi on a beach with no tourists. “Bail, shut up,” Kenobi said good-naturedly. He then turned to Vindictus and gave the perfunctory, courteous Jedi bow of greeting and respect. “I am pleased to meet you, Representative Jinn.”

Deciding to take a risk, Vindictus said amiably, “No need to bow to me, Master Kenobi. I was a Jedi once myself, I know that it’s hard to swallow being polite to a politician.”

Organa blinked and opened his mouth to say something to that but Kenobi beat him to it. The man’s smile was glorious, revealing slightly uneven but white teeth, and it reached his eyes in a genuine manner. “Most, yes,” he agreed. “Bail is the exception to that rule. He’s tolerable.”

Organa nudged Kenobi again with a mock-scowl before returning to the business at hand. “I have given your requests to the Senate Committee looking into the refugee situation, Jinn,” Organa said, “but I thought perhaps you could give an overview to the Jedi High Council, via Kenobi here. Being a former Jedi yourself, you are more than aware of their archival resources. Perhaps they can offer some further alternatives for relocation if the ones you suggested don’t pan out.”

Not sure about this plan, but eager to be in Kenobi’s presence, Vindictus pretended to ponder the suggestion before replying. “That sounds agreeable,” he nodded, giving a small smile in Kenobi’s direction. ‘Don’t oversell it,’ he admonished himself. “Our situation is dire so the more options available perhaps the sooner we can be given a new life.”

Kenobi was looking at him with intense scrutiny and Vindictus stayed collected, leaking a bit of urgent feelings through his shields. The inspection complete, Kenobi gave an answering nod. “How long has it been since you were last on Coruscant, Representative Jinn?” he asked.

“Many years,” Vindictus confessed, mentally adding ‘as Qui-Gon Jinn anyway’.

“If you are agreeable to dinner to discuss your community’s needs, I have just the spot in mind.”

Vindictus would have blinked if he didn’t think it would make him look indecisive. ‘Is Kenobi asking me on a date?’ he asked himself. “I have no plans this evening, Master Kenobi,” Vindictus said. “Dinner sounds perfect. Food and meaningful conversation is never time wasted, especially if it helps those in need.”

Kenobi’s expressive, full, tasty-looking lips quirked into a smile. “You may have left the Jedi, Representative Jinn, but apparently the altruism remains.”

Inwardly Vindictus snorted derisively. ‘Altruism. Jedi are so farking blind.’

Kenobi continued on, ignorant of Vindictus’ moment of derision to his words. “If you will give me your direction, I will pick you up at a time convenient for you.”

“I am staying temporarily in the old quarters of the Munn senator.” Vindictus gave another sarcastic snort. The _dead_ Munn senator. “And any time after sixth hour is fine. I have a meeting at fourth hour that should be concluded early enough to give me time to refresh myself for dinner.”

Kenobi swept him another elegant bow that had Vindictus wrestling his urge to sweep the shorter man up and take him against a wall, the crowd bedamned. The Jedi was sexual sin on two legs. Gods, the things Vindictus could do to Kenobi would no doubt give the Jedi a heart attack. He couldn’t stop a moue of disgust. Jedi were such farking prudes.

Something like uncertainty flashed in the green-blue depths of Kenobi’s eyes and Vindictus slammed the box of his rampant emotions closed immediately. ‘Don’t give the game away,’ he berated himself. ‘If this is the chance to get my quarry, the hunt needs to be cautious.’

Organa bid farewell to them both, Kenobi bowed to Vindictus before striding off himself (when were Jedi taught to walk like _that_?) and Vindictus reluctantly turned himself to the section of the Senate building where his interminable committee meetings were being held.

‘One day,’ he promised himself, ‘the Senate’s corrupt nonsense will be no more. The Sith will make sure that everyone knows their place and stays in it.’

* * *

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi entered his former master’s quarters, took a deep breath and said clearly, “He’s a Sith.”

“Certain are you?”

“A rather debauched Sith at that,” Obi-Wan added.

“Hmm. How far Qui-Gon Jinn has fallen,” Master Yoda lamented. “Continue to play his game. See where it leads us, you will. Be wary, my padawan,” the aged master warned. “No fool was he as a Jedi, less fool will he be as a Sith.”

“But likely more easily led by his emotions,” Obi-Wan noted.

“Yes. Always impulsive, that one was,” Master Yoda groused. “Sit. Have tea. Tell me your plan of attack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 06/28/20:  
> Title is from the song "I'm Looking Through You" from the album Rubber Soul with Paul McCartney on lead vocals.


	4. And the People Who Hide Themselves Behind a Wall of Illusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a cookout at friends tonight. Since you guys got triple chapters posted yesterday (entirely due my meds farking with my brain), I may leave it as one chapter posted today. I haven't decided. Impulsive, thy name is Wolfie.

Where Vindictus expected Kenobi to take him, a greasy spoon diner wasn’t it.

Dex’s Diner was run by a Besalisk who greeted Kenobi with a cheerful wave of multiple arms and a growl of “Sit where you want. The usual?”

“A menu for the representative, Dex,” Kenobi said. “He’s never been here, I’d wager.”

The giant hulk grunted and wandered back into the kitchen while a little human female whose name tag read ‘Hermione’ gave Vindictus a flirty smile and a somewhat worse for wear laminated menu.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” Kenobi told him, looking around the joint with a fond smile, “but Dex runs a top-notch place. Good reputation around the galaxy. I always get a nerfburger but feel free to get whatever you’d like. I’ve had everything a human can eat on the menu. It’s all good.”

Vindictus was inclined to take Kenobi’s word for it. Half the listed items didn’t even sound feasible let alone edible. “I’ll have a nerfburger as well,” he decided, since it sounded safe, “with cheese.”

Kenobi beamed approval at him. Vindictus wanted to bask in the warmth of that smile.

Once Hermione took their orders and set down fizzy drinks, Kenobi leaned back in his booth seat. “I know you only a little by reputation, Representative Jinn. You were known as a bit of a maverick but I’ve never learned why you left the Jedi.”

Vindictus fought the urge for a mighty scowl. “I’d rather not talk about it,” he said gruffly.

“Rumor is,” Kenobi went on blithely, ignoring the warning, “that it was because your apprentice fell.”

‘And had his ungrateful head chopped off later,’ Vindictus added viciously. “One of many grievances,” he ground out.

Kenobi gave a nod at that. “Sometimes the Force takes us on different paths than the one we started on,” he said.

Vindictus raised his head and gave Kenobi a piercing look. That comment seemed oddly…specific. “And what do you mean by that?” he asked, putting on a defensive manner.

Kenobi raised his hands placatingly. “I meant nothing untoward, merely pointing out the various paths Fate leads us to.” He paused, fiddling with the straw in his glass. “There was a time I thought I wouldn’t be a Jedi. No one selected me as their padawan learner, you see. The closer I got to thirteen, the more despairing I became.”

“I believe someone told me that you were trained by Master Yoda?” Vindictus inquired, though he knew damned good and well the answer was ‘yes’. “How did that happen?”

Kenobi gave a sad smile. “I was finally taken by a knight,” he remembered. “Master Erin Shara. Our first mission out, she took a blaster bolt to the chest. Burned her heart instantly. The security forces who were fighting with us protected me until they could get me off-planet. I thought I was returning to the Temple in disgrace. I’d let my master get killed.” Kenobi’s expression was melancholy. “It was decided that my future could wait until after I’d undergone counseling. Master Yoda took a special interest in me, monitored my progress with the mind healers. Once I was cleared, he took me to the Room of a Thousand Fountains and told me it wasn’t my fault. Sometimes things just weren’t meant to be. I thought he was saying I was being sent away, that I wouldn’t be a Jedi.”

Vindictus’ stomach clenched. He didn’t, and did, want to hear more. He kept silent, desperate for any bit of Kenobi’s life he could get.

“And then he asked me if I would be his apprentice.” Kenobi looked up and gave a half-smirk. “To say I was surprised would be an understatement.”

“I can imagine,” Vindictus remarked. “It was rumored for years that he didn’t want another apprentice, that he was too old to take the missons needed to train one to be a good field agent.”

Kenobi laughed. “Oh, he groused every time we left Coruscant.”

Vindictus smiled in return.

Their plates of burgers and side dishes arrived, Hermione putting them down with a flourish. Vindictus looked at the burger in askance. There was grease soaking into the bun. And the cheese was a big, gooey mess. Suppressing a grimace, Vindictus picked it up and bit into it.

And moaned at the deliciousness.

Kenobi laughed, a bright sound that went straight to Vindictus’ cock. “I know, right?” he chortled, before biting into his own burger.

Vindictus got as much enjoyment watching Kenobi eat (and slurp juice and salt off his fingers and lick it off his lips) as he did eating his own food. They concentrated on the meal, Vindictus finding he was hungrier than he thought. Listening to blustering windbags pretend to give a damn about someone other than themselves apparently worked up an appetite. No wonder senators were fat and soft.

Kenobi was munching on a pickle spear and people watching the other customers. Vindictus watched Kenobi, cataloging all the ways he could bring the Jedi to the heights of orgasmic pleasure.

“So what specifics are your communities looking at for resettlement?” Kenobi asked abruptly.

Vindictus gave an inward sigh of disgust. Time to pretend to give a damn. “Arable land, good for farming. Nothing that’s going to upset a native population, if at all possible. Good climate, even if we have to be in certain hemispheres or continents on whatever planet we’re allocated. Most of us are terraformers or descendants of terraformers so we’re hardy, not wishy-washy.”

Kenobi nodded. “Any particular places in mind? Sector-wise, I mean?”

“Nothing near Hutt-space, if we can manage it. I’m the only one, probably, with any fighting skills. We’d be prime prey for slavers.”

Kenobi nodded again, this time slower. “Perfectly understandable. No need to go from the frying pan into the fire.”

“Exactly.”

“Let me get with our archivist, Jocasta Nu.” Here Kenobi slid him a smirking smile. “You remember her?”

Vindictus gave a nod and mentally skewered her know-it-all image on a stun pike, allowing the head to buzz until the teeth fell out.

“I’m sure she can give me some areas to start investigating.” Kenobi’s gaze sharpened. “I assume your people are in a safe place at the moment? How urgent are we talking?”

Considering his refugees were entirely imaginary, Vindictus decided to be magnanimous to them. “We have been given refuge for the time being but we will be straining our hosts supplies, I’m sure, soon enough.”

Kenobi gave a sigh “Damned Separatists,” he grumbled. “I understand they have grievances and some of them are actually valid. Going around rampaging like a wounded mudhorn is not how you go about getting those grievances taken care of.”

Vindictus decided silence was the best course of action.

“Hermione! Check please, sweetheart!” Kenobi called out, raising his hand in the waitress’ direction.

Hearing Kenobi, _his Jedi_ , call someone else ‘sweetheart’ made Vindictus want to howl in possessive rage. He refrained. “I thank you for the meal, Master Kenobi,” he said instead, going for formality.

“Oh, by all means, call me Obi-Wan,” Kenobi, Obi-Wan, invited cheerfully. “May I call you Qui-Gon?”

Vindictus, taken aback, gave a jerky nod.

Obi-Wan paid the bill, shuffled them both out the door with a good-bye wave to the proprietor, and hustled up a taxi cab for them to share. It had to be Vindictus’ imagination but it seemed Obi-Wan was pressed awful close to him the entire ride to the Munn senator’s former quarters where Vindictus was staying.

“A pleasure to meet you, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said as Vindictus reluctantly climbed out the taxi speeder. “Bail gave me your comm frequency. I’ll send a message when I have something of interest for you. Perhaps I can bring you the Temple, give you a tour for old time’s sake.”

Vindictus couldn’t think of anything more potentially dangerous…or exciting. Being amidst all those Jedi, them not having the damnedest clue as to who and what he was. The adrenaline rush would be exquisite.

“Perhaps,” he allowed. “Good night, Obi-Wan.” The taxi sped off. Vindictus stood there a moment and then with a bounce to his step he entered his residential building.

He was going to have a damned good wank tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 06/28/20:  
> Title is from the song "Within You Without You" from the album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. It was written by George Harrison and features the following eclectic and beautifully utilized list of instruments:  
>  Sitar, acoustic guitar, 2 tambura, gilruba, tabla, svarmandal, 8 violins, 3 cellos. Whatever you might say about George, he wasn't afraid of using anything that interested him and it was often said by musicians familiar with an instruments, they were surprised by what he would do and use those instruments to make beautiful and creative sounds.
> 
> (Fun Wolfiefics fact: George is my favorite Beatle and my favorite album by George is Gone Troppo!


	5. It Was Twenty Years Ago Today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please heed updated tags. I added the drug and whatnot tags for just in case purposes. The drug use is not to force sex but to attempt mind manipulation in the final 'climax' scene of the story. So not this chapter. But I wanted to add to give people time to opt out before they get more invested or to brace themselves for possible triggering impact. Forewarned is forearmed. I thank all of you who have been reading, kudosing and commenting. It gives me the happys each time!

The Jedi Temple hadn’t changed one jot. Even some of the faces were the same, if a bit older. Vindictus kept his inner self heavily shielded and set up false, congenial outer shields to give the impression of a man with a purpose found outside being a Jedi Master. Most of his time, though, was spent watching the sway of Obi-Wan’s hips as he led Vindictus about. Those long legs would no doubt feel exquisite wrapped around his waist as he drove into the Jedi Master with all the passion he could muster.

He trailed after Obi-Wan place to place, nodding in greeting to those he recognized, occasionally making light conversation and then moving on. There was anticipation in Obi-Wan and Vindictus couldn’t quite put his finger on why the younger man felt that way.

Until they entered a very familiar corridor leading to the training salles.

Oh. Shit.

“You were trained by Master Yan Dooku, right?” Obi-Wan asked, looking at him over his right shoulder, changeling eyes bright with eagerness.

“Yes,” Vindictus hedged, mentally adding ‘among others’.

“I never got a chance to spar with him, before he too left the Order,” Obi-Wan continued, punching in a code for a private salle and the door sliding open. “I realize you might be rusty, but would you care to spar? Give me a taste of what I missed with him as an opponent?”

Vindictus gave a subvocal growl. Damn it! It would be hard to curb his new fighting style, honed as it was through the years first under Sidious and then with Plagueis after Sidious’ unfortunate, but well-planned, demise. He didn’t fight like a Jedi anymore.

He hesitated.

Obi-Wan’s eagerness was quickly banked. “I’m sorry, is my request unseemly?” He’d obviously picked up on Vindictus’ indecision. Could he use that to wiggle out of this conundrum?

He opened his mouth to state that he’d not lifted a lightsaber since he left the Order when an ominous _tap-tap-tap_ reached his ears. Double Damn It!

Vindictus turned and faced the one being in the galaxy, other than his master, that he’d never once been able to fool. He quirked a smile he did not feel and gave a little ritual bow. “Great-grandmaster, how are you?”

Master Yoda hadn’t changed a bit, except for maybe more hair growing from those long, expressive ears. They were currently perked up, signaling curiosity and complacency. If Vindictus wanted to keep the little troll unaware, those ears needed to stay in that position.

“Glad to see you am I, Qui-Gon.” Yoda looked around, lifted a hand, and a training saber soared into his little grip. He handed it to Vindictus with a congenial, “Out of practice you are, yes, but indulge old being’s curiosity you will? Muscle memory remembers better than mind.”

Grinding his teeth, Vindictus ignited the training saber, the green blade springing forth, looking so much the color of the saber he’d left behind all those years ago. Obi-Wan’s blue blade shot forth and the two began to circle each other.

Vindictus began to purposefully make mistakes: a botched feint here, an awkward stumble there, and even dropped his saber once but recovered it quickly in time to block a strike Obi-Wan made. He hoped he wasn’t laying incompetence on too thick and as the battle wore on, he put a bit of confidence in his footwork. He pretended that indeed things were coming back after years of having no practice. To his dismay, though, he realized Plagueis was correct. Obi-Wan Kenobi was indeed a very remarkable swordsman, possibly better than Dooku. He longed to battle Obi-Wan as his Sith self, with all the tricks and deceits inherent in his fighting style now. He couldn’t though. These morons still thought him a lost Jedi, who was now a simple farmer.

Obi-Wan backflipped over Vindictus and the taller man could smell the heat of the blue blade scorching his long hair slightly. “I yield,” he said, his insides screaming in protest. Sith did not yield! They defeated and took what they wanted.

“Out of practice indeed,” Master Yoda noted, “but well-fought all the same.” The wizened master turned away, gimer stick tapping as he moved. “Good to see you again, Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Vindictus swallowed a snarl and replied in a calm manner, “Good to see you as well, Master Yoda. May the Force be with you.”

The door to the salle slid shut and Vindictus watched as Obi-Wan put the training saber back on the rack and then walked back to him. “Shall we get a drink? Are you hungry? We could hit the refectory.”

He was on the edge of losing it. His rampant desire for Obi-Wan, the strain of keeping façade shields in place to fool all these idiot Jedi, and then the effort to look like an incompetent duelist was taking its toll. Vindictus needed to get out here, quickly, before it all collapsed.

“I’m afraid I have a dinner to attend this evening,” he said with what he hoped was a proper amount of regret. “A tedious dinner, too. I would like to get my head ready for it. I’m sure I’ll be answering the same questions I’ve been asked a thousand times already.” He gave what he hoped was a ‘I hope you understand’ smile.

Obi-Wan smiled back. “I understand.” The younger man hesitated and then seemed to gush out his next proposition as if nervous. “Would you perhaps be free later in the week? Dinner? A club? Theater? Anything you like?”

Vindictus idly wondered for a moment if Obi-Wan was familiar with Club Primal and how the Jedi would look with a ball-gag, bound and begging with those beautiful eyes. He shook himself from his brief fantasy and gave a delighted smile. “I would be pleased to, yes. Let me check my schedule and send you times when I am free.”

Obi-Wan beamed at him, escorted him through and out of the Temple, hailed a taxi, and waved Vindictus away cheerfully.

Vindictus sat back in his seat and let out a laugh. Too goddamned easy.

* * *

“Careful you will be,” cautioned Master Yoda.

Obi-Wan nodded. “I know. He’s got tight shields, but his desire slips through.” Obi-Wan gave a sigh. “Good thing I like it rough.”

Yoda scowled. “Like not this plan,” he grumped.

Obi-Wan knelt down before his master and stroked those long ears softly. “I know. But I know what I’m doing. I'm aware of my limits. We have safety measures in place. He’s none the wiser, so far. We have to play the game with their rules and use those rules against them. Jinn is the weak link, my master. We have to exploit it.”

Yoda sighed and raised pained green eyes to his former apprentice’s solemn countenance. “Attracted to him you are,” he noted.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I’ve always been something of an adrenaline junkie,” he teased. “I’m not a fool. Yes, I’m attracted to him but I’m aware of it. I won’t let it get out of my control. The point is to lead him on until he breaks. If I feel I can’t finish it, I’ll walk away. We can find a new tactic then.”

Yoda continued to scowl and Obi-Wan stood up to make his master his rather disgusting favorite tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, another short chapter. I will post #6 later today. I promise it will be WELL worth the wait! (evil Cruella DeVille cackle)
> 
> Edited 06/28/20:  
> Title is, I hope obviously so, from the main "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" song (not the ending coda of the album) from album of same title.
> 
> Another fun Wolfiefics fact: This album came out in 1967 EXACTLY 6 years TO THE DAY of my birthday!


	6. What Goes on in Your Heart, What Goes on in Your Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smexy times ahoy! And the power play begins...

Vindictus waited impatiently the entire rest of the week for sixth day to roll around. Interminable meetings full of pompous windbags filled his time and made him wish he could go homicidal as was his wont. He had purposefully cleared his calendar of events, making excuse after excuse to make it so, as that was the day Obi-Wan wanted to get together.

Darth Plagueis was growing tired of Vindictus playing the good little diplomat. Vindictus was needed elsewhere, so time was running out on Coruscant. If Vindictus wanted any part of Obi-Wan Kenobi, it would have to be today. Tonight. Preferably all damned night.

He dressed with care. As ‘Representative Qui-Gon Jinn’ Vindictus dressed in worn but fine tunics and robes befitting a refugee diplomat. He chose flattering colors denied him as both a Jedi and a Sith: blues, reds, and greens. Today he wore an easy to get out of blue tunic that deepened the blue of his eyes and easier to get out of trousers of navy tucked into half boots that could be toed off in a heartbeat. Clothes were not going to get in the way of Vindictus having his prize.

He expected Obi-Wan to arrive in the dull, boring, unflattering Jedi tunics and leggings and was therefore taken aback when the younger man entered Vindictus’ ‘rented’ chambers sporting an open-throat turquoise tunic, tight fitting teal leggings that hugged his ass oh-so-scrumptiously, and a merry twinkle in those beautiful eyes.

Obi-Wan looked Vindictus up and down appreciatively and smiled. “You look most attractive, Qui-Gon.”

Vindictus managed a teasing, “You look pretty good yourself, Obi-Wan.”

“Shall we?” Obi-Wan headed for the door, Vindictus hot on his heels.

“What activities did you have in mind?” he asked the Jedi as they stood in the lift taking them to the main floor of the building.

Obi-Wan turned to him, wrapped muscular arms around Vindictus’ neck and stood tiptoe for a brief, toe-curling kiss. “I thought we might,” he paused, “play,” he ended with a purr.

Vindictus’ soul howled in triumph. He crushed the smaller man to him and took possession of his mouth, sweeping his tongue in and tasting every crevice he could find before coming up for air. “I find such plans very agreeable,” he managed to say, his voice husky with need, with want.

Obi-Wan smirked and pulled away as the lift doors opened. They exited, unruffled, and made their way to a private speeder, Temple-issue, waiting outside the door. Vindictus climbed in and when Obi-Wan began driving, tapped his finger impatiently on his knee.

“Where are we going?” he finally asked, not recognizing the neighborhood. Coruscant changed quickly and there were many facets to the polluted jewel of the Galactic Republic.

“A private domain,” Obi-Wan told him, his voice going sultry. “Where we are guaranteed no judgment and lots of privacy.”

Vindictus’ cock, already hard from the kissing in the lift, became painful and he groaned. “You are a tease, Jedi,” he growled.

Obi-Wan gave a carefree laugh. “You’ve seen nothing yet.”

‘And neither have you,’ Vindictus thought savagely.

Obi-Wan pulled up outside an unprepossessing building where a rather scruffy looking Wookie stood sentinel. Vindictus looked about, wondering if he was being led into a trap, but sensed nothing around. Obi-Wan drew Vindictus inside after a nod at the Wookie, who clambered inside the speeder and drove away.

“Valet parking in this neighborhood?” Vindictus said with a tad touch of disbelief.

“The clientele this place has? Naturally,” Obi-Wan answered flippantly.

“And what clientele does this place have?” Vindictus asked.

Obi-Wan turned quickly and wrapped his arms around Vindictus’ waist and gave him a sultry look. “The kind that likes it a bit rough, a bit kinky, and with no possibility of blackmail for the people back home.”

“Perhaps I should bring you to Club Primal,” Vindictus grinned.

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. “So crass. No class,” he complained, taking Vindictus’ hand. “Any moron can fuck on a stage or for a peep show.”

“Oh, that’s not all they do,” Vindictus assured him. “That’s just to drive away the moral crusaders.”

Obi-Wan gave him an interested look. “Perhaps, if we find we are compatible, I’ll let you take me to your haunts then.”

Obi-Wan was going to rue that comment one day, Vindictus promised himself. Haunts indeed.

“Sirs.” A well-dressed young man bowed before Obi-Wan and Vindictus when they cleared the small hallway and alcove entrance. “You are expected.” The host handed Obi-Wan a key card. “All is ready for you as requested. As you know, if you have any other needs, merely press the intercom button and make your request. It will be immediately provided.”

Obi-Wan gave the young man a gracious smile. “I thank you.” He then looked over at Vindictus. “Shall we?”

Vindictus waved Obi-Wan on and followed behind at a prowl. He personally didn’t care whether there was an audience or not. In fact, sometimes he preferred one. It helped cement that his toy for the evening was well and truly his if those inhibitions of not being on display were broken down. But this was Obi-Wan. He needed to handle him with care. Seduction, playing Obi-Wan’s games, letting the Jedi get comfortable with him, trust him…that would be how he would bring Obi-Wan into the fold.

Sex, as Vindictus knew all too well, was a great motivator and binder to the Dark Side. Plagueis was the oddball, having no sexual drive in that regards. Vindictus gave a shiver remembering his last sexcapade with Sidious. It had been delightful, even when Sidious’ head rolled off his neck right after Vindictus sucked him dry. That alone convinced Plagueis that Vindictus would indeed be an excellent apprentice and potential successor.

Obi-Wan keyed a non-descript door open and Vindictus shook himself from his reverie. Such filth did not belong here this night, with his glorious Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s very fine head would remain where it belonged because Vindictus had future plans for it.

As Obi-Wan flipped on a low overhead light, Vindictus scrutinized the Jedi’s body. He would look majestic in black and red, an evil, sadistic glint in those changeling eyes. Those eyes turned to him and flashed an invitation. Vindictus didn’t need another.

He crossed the room in a few strides and pulled Obi-Wan into his arms. He slammed his mouth on the Jedi’s, forcing it open with no little hint of teeth, and sank his tongue within. Obi-Wan had been taken by surprise at the aggressiveness but quickly got with the program. He returned the kiss with definite enthusiasm and great skill. Vindictus’ soul shrieked that someone other than him had Obi-Wan before. The Jedi was _his_ , no one else’s. He would find these previous lovers and disembowel them for touching what belonged to Darth Vindictus.

Obi-Wan managed to wrench his mouth free and gave a small, breathless laugh. “I like a bit of eagerness, but we have all night to play. Let’s play.”

Vindictus growled, “Play later. Fuck now.” He ripped open Obi-Wan’s tunic and sucked and nibbled his way down the taut chest, paying particular attention to nipples that were already standing at attention.

Obi-Wan gasped and clutched at Vindictus’ shoulders. “Gods,” he whimpered.

Vindictus continued his downward trek, following the love trail of nearly blond hair with a hint of red to it until he reached the waistband of the leggings. “If you don’t want these ripped off, I suggest you slither your way out of them.”

Obi-Wan needed no further warning, as the leggings came off and were flung across the room. Vindictus eyed the arched cock, framed by gingery curls, hungrily. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said with gusto and took Obi-Wan’s cock to the root. The Jedi gave a shout of surprise and went all but boneless. Vindictus used the Force to buoy his prey’s body as he began a slow torture.

After several minutes, Obi-Wan was babbling pleas, but Vindictus would have none of it. The Jedi needed to understand who he belonged to. The Sith Lord let the prick fall from his mouth, stood and he began walking Obi-Wan back, leading him by his straining dick with soft but firm strokes and murmurs of “back, back, back.” Obi-Wan’s legs hit the bed and he fell backward on the silken counterpane.

Vindictus devoured his beautiful, hopefully new thrall with his eyes as he divested himself of his clothes. He then fell on top of Obi-Wan, pushing out a whuft of air from the Jedi, and propped himself on his elbows. “You are mine,” Vindictus advised him in a ‘don’t argue with me’ tone.

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow. “Slavery is banned in the Republic,” he argued with a wicked grin.

“Fuck the Republic,” snapped Vindictus.

“How about ‘fuck Obi-Wan’ for a start? More satisfactory for us both,” purred Obi-Wan, wrapping arms around Vindictus’ neck and pulling him down for a quick peck kiss. “Now you said something about ‘fuck now, play later’? Can that start now?”

He wasn’t ready for it and Vindictus took great delight in that. Sidious had taught him a trick, how to use the Force to take someone dry with just enough pain to make it enjoyable but not do physical damage. Vindictus used his legs to knock Obi-Wan’s knees apart and in another fluid move, pierced the Jedi’s ass up to the hilt. He could feel the root of his cock grazing that tight little hole. He relished it.

Obi-Wan’s beautiful eyes rolled up in his head and he arched with a loud moan.

“As I said,” Vindictus told him with another hard thrust, “you belong to me.”

Thrust followed thrust, Vindictus slamming into the warm heat that was Obi-Wan, his mind going primal, seeking only to find completion. Obi-Wan’s pleas just barely broke through and Vindictus scrabbled for the cock rubbing his belly, grasping and twisting it in time with his own movement. He watched in triumph as Obi-Wan’s eyes glazed, his mouth open in animalistic pants and then both slammed closed on a deep-throated keen as he came. Semen splattered between them and Vindictus continued to pound inside Obi-Wan, not ready to be spent, not ready to let go.

Obi-Wan needed to be marked, body and soul. He needed to understand who he belonged to.

“Qui-Qui,” sobbed Obi-Wan as Vindictus continued to milk his spent cock. “Please, hurts.”

That confession of pain was what Vindictus wanted and sent him over the edge. His thrusts became erratic and he grunted as he came inside Obi-Wan, releasing the other man’s sensitive organ to brace himself to get in deeper as he did so.

He collapsed on top of Obi-Wan, spent, at least for now. Both men were panting, covered in cum and sweat. Vindictus reveled in it. This was the best part, what was coming. The capitulation, the thrall’s need to soothe him, to verify that Vindictus was pleased with him, would fuck him again. He waited, regulating his breathing back to normal, giving a growl when his spent cock slipped from Obi-Wan.

The surrender didn’t come.

Vindictus propped open an eye and looked at Obi-Wan. There was a sated, almost goofy expression on the Jedi’s face. That was _not_ what Vindictus wanted. Obi-Wan was his. The man needed to vocalize that.

“Mmm.” Obi-Wan finally gave a stretch and tried to shove Vindictus off. “You’re heavy.”

Stunned, Vindictus moved. “What are you doing?” he demanded as Obi-Wan got to his feet and gave a full body stretch that showcased a mouthwatering musculature.

“Shower.”

Vindictus’ mouth dropped open in shock. “What?”

“I want a shower. I don’t like continuous sex covered in sweat and semen. After awhile the taste,” and here Obi-Wan made a disgusted face, “not pleasant.” He held an inviting hand out to Vindictus. “Want to shower with me? I guarantee lots of interesting products there to play with.”

When Vindictus just stared at him in disbelief, Obi-Wan shrugged and headed for the door that undoubtedly led to a fresher. ‘What in all the Sith Hells just happened?’ Vindictus demanded of the Force.

He got no answer but it did seem like the Force was giving a contented purr not unlike the one Obi-Wan gave earlier. A shower began running in the fresher and, spurred by the need to see Obi-Wan with rivulets of water cascading down that delectable body, Vindictus joined him.

The shower turned into a bit of foreplay, as Obi-Wan seemed to have anticipated, and then full out sex again as Vindictus took Obi-Wan against the shower wall with hot water spraying about them. Obi-Wan made such delicious noises when he came. It was becoming addictive and further cemented in Vindictus’ mind that Obi-Wan belonged to him.

From shower to bed, another shower to a swing that Vindictus wanted a version of in every place he lived in the galaxy and on his ship as well, Jedi and Sith had orgasm after mind-blowing orgasm. Vindictus was pleased that Obi-Wan didn’t care for slow and sweet. He was demanding, pushy, and eager for it. ‘My Jedi slut,’ Vindictus thought savagely as he took Obi-Wan on the plush carpet, no doubt leaving rug burns on the Jedi’s back and not giving a damn.

Vindictus didn’t know how many times he’d come inside Obi-Wan. He just knew it wasn’t enough. He needed it like air. Obi-Wan’s tight hole was more addictive than Death Sticks. They’d fallen into a sexed-out stupor when there was a discreet chime at the door and over an intercom speaker a pleasant voice said, “You have twenty minutes left to your reservation.”

Vindictus snarled something in Hutteese that made Obi-Wan laugh. “Shower sex, quick fuck against the door or call it quits and try for a new record of orgasms next time?” Obi-Wan asked with an arched eyebrow and teasing glint in his eye.

“Shower,” grunted Vindictus. “Two birds, one stone.”

This time it was Obi-Wan who showed him a trick, hovering using the Force to where Vindictus could suck him off while Obi-Wan did the same. Once he came aright, Vindictus held him tightly, gingerly soaping both their bodies indiscriminately.

“We are made for each other,” he observed. Staking a primal claim, he’d come to realize, only got his announcement teasingly swiped away. Perhaps this milder observation would be better received and reduce the howling protests deep inside him at letting Obi-Wan go.

Obi-Wan kissed Vindictus’ throat at the pulse point. “I’ve never met anyone who could keep up with me,” he said with great satisfaction.

‘Me neither,’ Vindictus thought to himself. ‘And it would be a farking Jedi.’

“Shall we try again next week?” Obi-Wan asked, stepping from the shower and briskly drying himself off with one of the many used towels they’d dirtied up over the evening.

“I have to leave. I’ve been summoned back,” Vindictus stumbled over his words, scrambling to get his satiated mind to function enough for a plausible lie. “The community leaders have asked me to return for a full accounting and suggestions that can be reviewed. Then I can come back to Coruscant to give the refugee committees our decision.”

Obi-Wan threw a sorrowful look over his shoulder. “Who knows if I’ll be planetside by then,” he noted. “I was only brought back to the Temple due to an injury.”

Vindictus blinked. ‘Injury?’

Obi-Wan quirked his lips, as if having caught the thought. “I was pushed out of a multi-storied building, barely cushioned my landing, I was so disoriented. Banged my head pretty good. Was out cold for several days. Woke in the Temple healers ward. I was cleared for duty yesterday.”

“How in the world did someone push a Jedi off a building?” Vindictus demanded.

Obi-Wan’s eyes turned into a blazing, mystical green fire. “A Sith,” he growled.

Vindictus went cold. Then a red rage began to bloom in his stomach, crawled up his chest, restricted his breathing, and by the time it reached his head, if he’d been able to, he would have been snorting fire. Plagueis would die. The Munn tried to kill Vindictus’ possession.

Something calculating flickered on Obi-Wan’s face and Vindictus half-registered it, so focused on his internal madness. Obi-Wan paced to him, wrapped his mostly clothed body around Vindictus’ nude one and murmured softly, “I’m all right. I’ve had worse. I promise I’ll be more careful.”

It didn’t abate the rage at his master but it did mollify the primitive possessiveness Vindictus felt for Obi-Wan. His Jedi would not be punished. Obi-Wan knew, and owned up to, his mistake. He would not make it again. That was acceptable.

“We need to go,” Obi-Wan said regretfully, pulling away and tossing Vindictus’ clothes at him playfully. “I’ll give you my comm frequency so we can stay in contact.” His expression turned sly. “So we can make plans to meet up somewhere if possible.”

Vindictus struggled to regain control and tugged on his clothing with jerky motions. “Excellent plan.”

They left, as anonymously as they had entered. Obi-Wan dropped Vindictus off at his residence and disappeared into the heavy Coruscant traffic.

Vindictus was starting to wonder who was trapping whom. It didn’t matter. Plagueis had sealed his fate with his attempt to kill that which belonged to Vindictus. He would die. Darth Vindictus would rise as the Dark Lord of the Sith. And then he would find a way to twist his beautiful Obi-Wan to his side as his apprentice, his thrall, his mate. Together, they would rule for all time.

* * *

“He’s nibbled at the bait,” Obi-Wan reported to the Council, wrapped in his Jedi robes and tunics.

Everyone eyed his exhausted, sated features and gave a collective nod.

Master Kit Fisto scowled ferociously. “I don’t like it.”

Obi-Wan quirked a smile. “It wasn’t that bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting so often as I want to get everything done before the Fourth of July weekend, which is a big deal in this United States and I plan on being with my family in the countryside, shooting many many fireworks. :)
> 
> That and I'm impatient. LOL!
> 
> Edited 06/28/20:  
> The song is "What Goes On" from the album Rubber Soul. While sung by Ringo Starr, it is purported by John to be one of the earliest songs he'd ever written, back when he was a teenage skiffleband musician in 1950s Liverpool. Paul likely helped tweak it when it was decided to give to Ringo to sing in the 1965 album.


	7. Images of Broken Light Which Dance Before Like a Million Eyes

Vindictus barely refrained from an assassination attempt when Plagueis knowingly asked how Coruscant treated him. “It had its moments,” he responded and the conversation was turned to the next step in the plan to take over the galaxy.

This time Vindictus listened. He took in the nuances of words and inflections in the Sith Master’s voice. He noted potential pitfalls or weak points, in both the plan and Plagueis’ itinerary within it.

And he began to plot.

Time passed. He would catch glimpses of Obi-Wan on various battlefields but remained out of sight. Obi-Wan still thought him a renounced Jedi, helping to resettle refugees created by the war. Being caught on the battlefield, siding with the droid army would not be advisable. Each time he saw Obi-Wan fighting, blue blade flashing at near impossible speeds, Vindictus grit his teeth and threatened the Force that if Obi-Wan fell, someone was going to pay for it. In bloody tatters.

Vindictus’ chance came when the war came to Geonosis. To his horror, Obi-Wan was caught eavesdropping on Plagueis and various Separatist envoys and was sentenced to the death arena. Vindictus circumvented guards and slaves, making his way completely cloaked in the Force as the Priestesses had taught him. One of many things they taught him, actually, that he’d neglected to share with his master.

That neglect was going to come in handy now.

As he made his way through the crowd of eager nobles, politicians and sycophants, Vindictus glanced into the arena and felt a spate of fear. His beautiful Obi-Wan was hanging like butchered meat from a pole, looking strangely calm and amused with the situation, waiting for the games to begin.

The crowd around him shifted and Vindictus caught sight of his master, in his civilian guise of Hego Damask, chatting amiably with those around him as if he had no care in the world. Vindictus clenched his teeth. He was about to make that a permanent disposition.

He worked his way toward Plagueis, unobtrusive and blanked in the Force. Few paid him little mind, a tall, brown and silver haired human with a penchant for black on a desert world. As he got closer, he could hear the conversation his master was having with those about him.

“Kenobi’s downfall will shake the Jedi Order,” Plagueis was expounding with a rictus grin. “He’s their golden child. Use him as an example, the others will start to lose their nerve.”

What the Sith Master would have said next would be lost to posterity. Vindictus’ blood red blade hummed to life right behind the Munn Sith and, as Plagueis turned around, Vindictus made three slices: long neck, torso and waist. His lightsaber blade slid through Munn flesh like a knife through melted butter. No resistance.

Vindictus held the saber to the throat of Poggle the Lesser, the moron in charge of the place, and stated in a very reasonable tone, “Let the Jedi go or more heads will roll, starting with yours.”

Poggle spluttered and began to shout instructions. The crowd shrank from the confrontation scene. Vindictus grabbed the thin tunic encasing Poggle’s body and pulled him to the edge of the balcony to make sure Obi-Wan was being freed.

Two Geonosians were unshackling Obi-Wan, whose head was swiveling this way and that, trying to figure out what he was sensing in the Force. No doubt, Vindictus was leaking all over the place but that was all right. For now.

Vindictus turned back to Poggle and the assembled Confederate representatives. “You deal with me now. Darth Vindictus. There’s been a shift in power but never fear, all plans remain in place. Do as you’re told, go where I tell you, and we will triumph.” He glanced back down to Obi-Wan, who was unerringly staring up at the balconies. “Take that,” and he poked his blade’s point at Plagueis’ three parts, “and burn it. Eat it, even, if you think it’s edible. You will let the Jedi go.”

There was a protest at that, which Vindictus quelled with a ferocious glare.

“He tells them nothing we don’t want them to know.” He let go of Poggle, who stumbled back on his rickety limbs, gathered his black robes around him and thrust as much Darkness out amongst them as he could. It worked. They were suitably cowed.

“If I learn of double-cross,” he added as he turned, “I shall be very angry.”

He surged through the assemblage and something skittered down his spine. He looked up. Ships were breaking the atmosphere. Republic ships. Apparently, Obi-Wan had gotten a transmission out after all. The audience on every balcony began to scream and mill about in an attempt to flee. Vindictus drew himself into a natural alcove and watched with hooded eyes, recloaking his presence in the Force.

Clone troopers poured forth; blaster fire was exchanged. Vindictus waited it out. What he wasn’t prepared for was Obi-Wan Kenobi launching himself onto Vindictus’ balcony, which was now nearly empty. Heedless of the remaining panicking people, Obi-Wan cautiously approached Plagueis’ three-part body and gave the head a poke with his booted foot. The head rocked slightly, eyes glassy and lifeless.

Obi-Wan grimaced and then began looking around, those brilliant eyes searching everywhere for something. Vindictus remained still, submerged in the Force, silent, invisible. Obi-Wan paced in his direction a few steps, turned away and went back to Plagueis. He pulled out a comm unit that had been missed in a frisk (assuming the dumbasses bothered to do so) and spoke in clear tones.

“I think I found Darth Plagueis.” Here Obi-Wan grimaced. “All three pieces of him.”

A tinny response filtered to Vindictus’ ears. “And Darth Vindictus?”

Obi-Wan scowled. “He _was_ here,” Obi-Wan reported, eyes still dancing around, cataloging everything, “but either he fled with the rest or he’s still here, watching to see what we’ll do.”

Obi-Wan was too damned canny for his own good.

“I’m pretty sure Plagueis’ demise is Vindictus’ handiwork, though, which means Vindictus is the new Sith Master.”

The comm person’s response made Vindictus want to chop more bodies up. “Which means he’s looking for an apprentice. Be careful, Obi-Wan, that he hasn’t already found one.”

“I’m careful,” Obi-Wan protested. “I am!”

“Says the man who until just a few moments ago was trussed up in a gladiatorial ring to be target practice for rampaging, hungry beasts.”

“Screw you, Kit,” Obi-Wan laughed and cut the comm channel, replacing the unit in a pouch on his belt.

Obi-Wan then turned around in a circuit as he called out, “I know you’re still here, Darth Vindictus. Come out and play.”

Vindictus grit his teeth but didn’t budge. Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to be lured to the Dark Side yet. He couldn’t know his rough and insatiable lover Qui-Gon Jinn was Darth Vindictus.

“Afraid?” taunted Obi-Wan. Still Vindictus stayed motionless. Obi-Wan made a frustrated sound not unlike the noise he made when Vindictus drew out sucking his cock. “End this now.” The Jedi turned to pleading. “What’s the point of ruling the galaxy if there’s no one left alive in it to rule over?”

True, the Sith were a blood-thirsty lot but even _they_ couldn’t wholesale slaughter billions of beings like Obi-Wan seemed to be under the impression they wanted. A reduction in population here and there was sufficient to maintaining supremacy and order. No need for, well, overkill.

“We’ve got traction on Geonosis,” Obi-Wan noted. “Your prime planet facility for creating your droid army. A little bit of effort and it’s over.”

Vindictus couldn’t help a snort at that, quiet though it was. Did the Jedi and Galactic Senate think this planet was the _only_ place they were building droids? When did the Jedi lose the ability to strategize?

Obi-Wan made another frustrated noise that made Vindictus want to reveal himself, tackle Obi-Wan to the ground, overwhelm him and take him, but he reigned the impulse in. With a smooth maneuver, Obi-Wan went over the edge of the balcony, disappearing from sight. Vindictus waited ten long heart beats and then moved to the edge to look over.

Obi-Wan and several other Jedi, Mace Windu one of them interestingly enough, were gathering troops back onto one of the transports. Soon they were taking off. Distance rumbles told Vindictus the Galactic air support was bombing the crap out of the droid factories.

That was fine. More where those came from. He needed to pull back anyway, regroup, think and scheme. Plagueis was dead. Vindictus was on his own. He couldn’t be that way for long without revealing himself to the enemy as he consolidated his power and reputation among his so-called allies.

He needed to get Obi-Wan turned sooner rather than later.

As he strode away, back into the warren in the cliffs around the arena, Vindictus idly wondered what Obi-Wan’s Sith name would be. Obi-Wan fit him so well, it was too bad tradition required a name change. He would have to think on it, have options ready when Obi-Wan needed them.

Darth Cunnus had a nice ring to it.

* * *

Obi-Wan’s soul screamed as they pulled away from Geonosis. Mace watched him, those dark brown eyes missing nothing.

“Are you all right?” the Head of the Jedi Council asked.

Obi-Wan sighed. “For a moment, when I saw Plagueis laying there in three pieces, I had hope.” He twisted his lips into a grimace. “I was fooling myself. It was a power play. Maybe revenge. Or some Sith rite of passage. Anything but him drifting back to the Light.”

“It was always a long shot, Obi-Wan,” Mace told him, placing a comforting hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan nodded tiredly. “I know.” He turned to Mace, resigned. “Losing Dooku, then losing Qui-Gon, Master Yoda has never been the same. He feels his lineage is corrupt. I _need_ to bring Qui-Gon back, for Master Yoda’s sake, for Qui-Gon’s sake.” He stopped and then sighed. “And for my sake.”

Mace’s gaze sharpened. “Why your sake?”

Obi-Wan looked away, ashamed but didn’t answer. How did one tell the Head of the Jedi Order you’ve fallen in love, probably, with a Dark Lord of the Sith?

“Be careful, Obi-Wan,” Mace finally said. “Take some R and R. Take the 212th with you. All of you have been in the thick of things from almost the beginning. Show them the galaxy is more than battlefields, the dead and dying, and people mourning or starving.”

Obi-Wan quirked a smile. “I know just the place.”

After Mace left him in peace, Obi-Wan sat at a long-distant comm unit and sent a coded message to Qu-Gon Jinn.

_Qui-Gon,_

_I am taking my troops on a little bit of rest and relaxation. Giving consideration to Lascal. It’s pretty uninhabited, mostly tropical and utterly gorgeous. The Living Force is powerful there, almost as powerful as on Dagobah. Have you been? Want to join me? Send me a response._

_How goes the new settlement? I can’t wait to hear about it soon, in person. Preferably after you’ve taken me apart with your tongue._

_Obi-Wan_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I told you the title came from either Beatles song titles or lyrics but haven't said WHAT songs. So I'm amending all previous chapters in the end notes and adding that information.
> 
> Kind of a psuedo-soundtrack/playlist if you will. 
> 
> This one is from "Across the Universe"on the Let It Be album. Though shown as written by "Lennon-McCartney' per usual it was technically all a John song.


	8. Magical Mystery Tour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be the drug use as tagged that is designed to make Obi-Wan susceptible to the Dark Side, NOT to rape or to coerce him into sex. He already knew he was going to do THAT. But still, please be careful if this is potentially triggering. I will have a quick sum up in the end notes if you wish to skip the chapter.

Darth Vindictus wasn’t a heathen. He more than appreciated nice things, especially when they were designed to give him pleasure or satisfy a selfish want. As a Jedi, he’d long deprived himself of such things but as a Sith Lord? All was his for the taking if he just stretched out his hand.

He did so and a fruity drink with an absurd plastic pink bird decoration hanging off it flew straight and true to his hand right after the bartender set it down. There was a squawk of protest from the individual who ordered the drink that Vindictus silenced with a negligent clench of his fist, cutting off the protester’s air for a moment. Then he released. It wouldn’t do for Obi-Wan to arrive and discover a trail of dead bodies in Qui-Gon Jinn’s wake.

Obi-Wan wasn’t due, with his 212th clone troopers, until later this afternoon, so Vindictus decided to indulge in a little bit of ‘give me or I’ll kill you’ to spice up the morning. He wondered if Obi-Wan knew his “mostly uninhabited’ description was now a bold-faced lie as Vindictus lay stretched out on a rather comfy lounge chair in the bright tropical sun. The beach at this time of day was sparsely populated with tourists screeching in the water or also lounging in the sun.

It was fine, either way. Vindictus had found some interesting, private places in which to make Obi-Wan so mindless he would gladly turn to the Dark Side for more orgasms like _that_. It wouldn’t be that easy, of course, but a Sith Lord could dream.

He did plan, though, on supplanting ideas into Obi-Wan’s head, little seductive mind games designed to twist Obi-Wan into knots. They would eventually make him vulnerable and when the moment was right, Vindictus would bring Obi-Wan fully over, encase him in glorious shadows and show him what true power was and its great rewards.

He smirked, readjusted his sun specs more comfortably on his crooked nose, and relaxed. Plotting the downfall of modern civilization, killing one’s master and taking his power for yourself, and scheming to get his own apprentice/fuck toy was stressful. He was glad Obi-Wan suggested Lascal for some relaxation. Even Sith Lords got a little frazzled.

He dozed, stole another drink, dozed some more, turned over so as not to completely bake his front, and then pondered lunch. He had a craving for nerfburgers for some unholy reason. Obi-Wan corrupted him with Dex’s Diner, he supposed. He’ll have to get revenge somehow.

The early afternoon sun was blazing hot. He was sweating buckets just laying here. Vindictus got up, grabbed a towel, and wiped himself down a bit as he headed toward the small bungalow he’d rented with the intention of sharing it with Obi-Wan. Once inside, he partook of some fresh fruit from a greeting basket on the small kitchen table and opened the sliding back door for some ocean breeze.

The sound of the surf and the smell of salt and greenery made him smile. When he’d been a Jedi this would have been paradise. It wasn’t half bad now. In the teeming life of the jungle around the little resort and the ocean beyond, predators prowled, taking advantage of the weak, wreaking havoc as was their want and instinct. Even paradise had a healthy bit of darkness to it.

He smirked. That was good. Maybe he’d use that as an argument on Obi-Wan.

Deciding to up the decadence game, Vindictus began to prepare a cold repast for later in the evening, to be eaten after he’d fucked Obi-Wan at least twice and they would both need the calories for more. After their sexcapades on Coruscant, Vindictus had found himself eating everything in sight for two days. They’d burned a lot of calories but it was oh-so worth it.

Cold cuts of meats, cheeses, tiny slices of fresh bread and crackers, and bite sized bits fruit were painstakingly prepared and arranged in a pleasing manner. That was something Palpatine hadn’t understood. Sex was sex and had its place. Sometimes it was better than anything else, that release of physical tension. But seduction…seduction had much greater rewards.

Watching your prey be charmed, eager to be in your presence, happy to let you touch and be touched, the caresses, the honeyed words that were lies but they didn’t know that, the little actions that seemed as if you gave a flying fuck what they felt and wanted and desired. Once you had them seduced, why you could do any damned thing you please with them because they were convinced you _cared_ and had _their best interests at heart_.

There was nothing like seeing the surrender of someone who thought themselves worldly and wise, willing to do anything you wanted, and then guilting themselves when they realized they got nothing in return, telling themselves it was their fault. That they were inadequate somehow. After all, look at what he’d done for them? All these little things done to make them feel appreciated. What was wrong that they didn’t feel appreciated? Seeing that self-doubt, that inadequacy in their eyes and on their faces was almost as good as a hard orgasm.

Almost.

Vindictus heard the brush of footsteps up the walk and shivered in anticipation. He knew that it was Obi-Wan. That bright light in the Force was unmistakable. How wonderful it will feel to snuff it out like a candle one day.

There was a brisk knock and Vindictus casually made his way over to open it. Obi-Wan was lounging against the door jamb, eyes like the ocean outside the bungalow twinkling, and a smile flirting about his lips. He swept his gaze up and down Vindictus’ body and the smile grew wider.

“I see someone’s already been getting some sun,” he remarked, entering at Vindictus’ silent invitation.

“I thought you said ‘mostly uninhabited’?”

Obi-Wan gave a shrug. “I haven’t been here for several years. I can’t be expected to keep up with development on every planet in the galaxy.” He turned around and put his hands on his hips. “Besides, would you rather scrounge for food or have it delivered by a hot waiter or waitress?”

“I don’t scrounge for food anymore,” Vindictus said unthinkingly. When Obi-Wan frowned a bit, he realized his error. He was, after all, supposed to be part of a large refugee community making a new life on a primitive world. “We have adequate rations to get us by. No one is starving,” he covered quickly.

Obi-Wan accepted the lie and chuckled. “I assure you, there will be better food than old field rations here.”

Vindictus was tired of words. He stalked to Obi-Wan, who merely smirked up at him, not backing up an inch. His Obi-Wan was fearless. Vindictus liked that about his Obi-Wan. He would make a formidable Sith Lord. They would stand side by side, unmoveable, undefeatable.

It made him rock hard and dizzy thinking about it.

Obi-Wan’s hand slid into Vindictus’ swim shorts and grasped his cock. He gave it a tug. “Now here’s a convenient leash,” he winked, giving it a tug to infer that Vindictus should follow.

Vindictus did the leading. He growled and jerked Obi-Wan to him, slamming his mouth on the Jedi’s, forcing it open with his tongue and probing. Obi-Wan tasted like honey, tea, and a minty flavor, probably his tooth cleaner. Obi-Wan clutched his shoulder with his free hand, but began to milk Vindictus’ cock with the other.

“No!” Vindictus barked, pulling back. “I come _in_ you and only when I want too.” Using a bit of Force to augment his strength, he swept Obi-Wan up into his arms and stalked to the bedroom. Obi-Wan began nibbling on his neck, worrying a spot with his teeth and shooting sparks of electricity straight to Vindictus’ groin.

He tossed Obi-Wan on the bed but the Jedi bounced right back up on his knees, the mattress indenting with his weight. “A bit possessive, aren’t we?” Obi-Wan chided playfully. “Surely, a man as attractive as you are has had other partners in bed?”

Vindictus paused. He had, of course, nameless, faceless things that slaked the itch for a brief time but also increased his driving need for Obi-Wan to be forever in his arms. At Obi-Wan’s smirking expression, a thought occurred to Vindictus that set his blood boiling.

“Have you been fucking people other than me?” he roared in outrage.

Obi-Wan blinked, as if taken aback. “Well, yes,” he said. “I am a man in my prime with sexual urges.”

Vindictus saw red; the room, Obi-Wan, and the view outside the windows awash with it. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened in alarm and he actually scrambled to get away but Vindictus was on him in a flash. Obi-Wan bucked to dislodged him, but Vindictus was bigger and heavier than the Jedi. Vindictus snapped Obi-Wan’s face up to him with a blunt-fingered, large hand and snarled into his astonished face, “You are _mine_. No one else can have you. Me, mine.” He ground his hip against Obi-Wan, triumphant that Obi-Wan was still hard.

Obi-Wan stilled and his eyes turned watchful, wary.

“Say it,” snapped Vindictus. “Say you are mine!”

“I have free will, V-,” he froze, swallowed and then repeated, “I have free will, Qui-Gon. Would you want me if I was this brainless, mindless, autonomous nothing, who just spreads his legs when you enter the room?”

Vindictus heard the words, struggled to tamp down his fury and jealousy, let Obi-Wan’s chin go and rolled off him. He was breathing hard and his mind was in chaos. He was hyper-aware of Obi-Wan, though, and knew the moment the Jedi moved cautiously off the bed.

“Don’t-“ Vindictus’ voice broke. He wanted to beat himself about the head with a brick. Sith Lords didn’t beg. “Don’t go. I am sorry.”

There was a long, contemplative silence. “I hadn’t planned on it, Qui-Gon.”

Relief cascaded through Vindictus’ body as quickly as the jealousy had done. He opened his eyes and watched as Obi-Wan nosed around the room. The Jedi returned with an alarmingly large bottle of lubricant, a bewilderingly small jar of lotion, and a soft, nearly shy smile.

“You’re stressed,” Obi-Wan noted unnecessarily. “I get it. I understand. It’s hard to let go. It’s hard to trust, to want someone and feel certain they want you equally in return. Just take a deep breath. Let me give you a bit of pampering, Qui-Gon. Let’s get you calmed down.”

Obi-Wan poked Vindictus’ hips and he lifted them so that Obi-Wan could draw the swim shorts off. Starting with his feet, Obi-Wan began to massage using the disgustingly flowery lotion all up Vindictus’ body. Taut muscles were worked gently until they relaxed. Skin that was dry from the harsh conditions of the various planets Vindictus had been visiting was moisturized. By the time Obi-Wan got to his neck, Vindictus was fighting the urge to purr like a lazy cat.

This was not how he’d planned the night to go.

But, he reasoned, if Obi-Wan wanted to pamper him, then by all means, there was no harm in it. After his jealous rage earlier, it would go a long way to regaining Obi-Wan’s cooperation and affections.

‘Compromise,’ he told himself. ‘It will get you all you desire.’

“Want to roll over and I’ll get your backside?”

Vindictus shook his head. “No.” He levered himself up on his elbows. “I want-“ He stopped. Too much. Too soon. He needed to woo, to seduce.

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow and then gave a smirk. He stood up, Vindictus’ gaze on him, and dropped his own shorts and pulled off his shirt. Boldy naked, cock jutting out proudly, Obi-Wan then crawled to straddle Vindictus, far up enough that his ass crack cradled Vindictus’ own hard, leaking cock.

“While I enjoyed that little Force trick on Coruscant,” Obi-Wan murmured, arching his body in a sensuous pose, “let’s go a bit more conventional this time around.” He picked up the bottle of a lube and raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“If you insist, but my way is less messy,” Vindictus pointed out.

Obi-Wan poured a small amount of lube into his hand, reached behind, gasped when he made a jerking motion and tossed something to the side that Vindictus couldn’t glimpse. His slicked hand stroked Vindictus’ cock, causing the big man to moan like some two-credit whore, and then sank down smooth as anything, impaling himself.

“You were wearing a plug?” Vindictus managed to growl as Obi-Wan’s heat increased the fire within him.

“You are rather large,” Obi-Wan pointed out playfully, “and it’s been a long time. I didn’t figure we’d want to wait.”

With a wordless snarl, Vindictus bucked his cock deep inside Obi-Wan, making the Jedi cry out involuntarily. “Move, damn you, I want to see you work for it.” Obi-Wan gave a breathless laugh but did as he was bid.

He rode Vindictus like a pro. He went slow, he went fast, he reached behind and toyed with Vindictus’ ball sack. He would occasionally lean over and give a deep kiss that made Vindictus hungry for more, more, more.

When Obi-Wan wrapped his hand around his own prick, Vindictus knocked it away and did it himself. Precome was dripping down Obi-Wan’s length, making it easy to slick up. Hand and ass rotated, twisted, jerked and pumped until both men exploded, all but screaming incoherently as they came.

Obi-Wan pitched forward and Vindictus barely had the presence of mind to catch him before their heads slammed together in what would be a very painful collision. He tilted Obi-Wan’s face for a better look and found his Jedi unconscious.

“Mine,” he growled in Obi-Wan’s ear. “I’ll bet I’m the only one that can fuck you out of your mind.”

He tilted the Jedi over, slipping his cock out of Obi-Wan’s ass, and curled up around the unconscious man possessively. He could allow Obi-Wan a bit of sleep. They had all night to get a good start on their R & R. Vindictus was planning on it.

* * *

Cody tensed at the two screams. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the general come apart during sex but this seemed different somehow. Perhaps it was the knowledge that the general was fucking a damned Sith.

Cody groused to himself. The general had hesitantly asked him to stand watch, make sure no one interrupted the little bungalow’s inhabitants. That the war’s outcome depended on it. While he had heard rumors that the general was a hell of a bed partner, Cody wasn’t sure how Kenobi was going to fuck the war to an end.

Maybe it was a Jedi thing? Something to do with the Force? Who knew? Cody had his orders and he was going to follow them to the damned letter. No one was to get anywhere near that bungalow until Cody had been given the all-clear by the general.

This was _not_ what Cody had anticipated for R & R.

* * *

Vindictus watched as Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open about thirty minutes after round one. He smirked as Obi-Wan focused on him and smiled back. The Jedi purred, snuggled deeper into Vindictus’ embrace and said huskily, “Excellent start, I must say.”

“A lot more where that came from, pun intended,” Vindictus told him with a leer.

Obi-Wan gave a full-throated laugh. “I actually haven’t eaten since breakfast. Please tell me you have food?”

Pleased that his preparations were going to be used as intended, Vindictus shuffled off the bed, held out a hand to lever Obi-Wan up as well and drew him to the tiny kitchen. From the chill box, Vindictus produced the meat, cheeses and fruits. From the small cabinet, the crackers and bread chunks. Juice with a hint of alcohol was mixed and if Vindictus dribbled a mild concoction designed to reduce inhibitions and clear thinking into Obi-Wan’s drinks it was no business but his own. He needed Obi-Wan tractable, his guard down, to begin his seduction to the Dark Side.

Obi-Wan clinked their glasses together and took a big swallow. Vindictus crowed in triumph inside but merely sipped his own drink complacently. They ate, sometimes feeding each other, teasing the other by trailing fingers along bottom lips or leaning in to lick off fruit juice. Obi-Wan had another drink, again spiked, and his body grew more lethargic, his mind obviously sluggish.

“Too much booze, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan noted around a yawn. “Makes me sleepy.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Vindictus told him with a smile. “You’ll be too busy to sleep.”

Obi-Wan’s eyelids dragged heavily as he replied, slurring a bit, “Are you sure about that?”

Vindictus gave a nod. “Quite positive.” He stood up. “Come. Round two awaits.”

Obi-Wan staggered to his feet and frowned a bit. “Didn’t seem like that much alcohol,” he complained.

“You’re just a lightweight, Obi-Wan,” Vindictus lied, lacing his voice with amusement.

Obi-Wan pouted at him. It was cute. “Am not.”

Vindictus backed the intoxicated Jedi against the wall and leaned in to whisper, “Shall I take you against this wall? No neighbors to disrupt.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and apparently tried to focus but couldn’t. He gave a drunken nod and tipped his head back at Vindictus’ urging so that the Sith Lord could suck a nice love mark on his pulse point. Soon, legs wrapped around Vindictus’ hips, Obi-Wan was gasping out ‘oh oh oh’ with each thrust his lover shoved into him. Hands scrabbling for purchase on Vindictus’ shoulders, the Jedi couldn’t grab his own cock to reach completion. That was okay. Vindictus could fix that problem.

He felt his balls tighten, knew he was going to come soon, and sent a tendril of his dark passion into Obi-Wan’s sluggish, haphazardly shielded mind. Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled back in his head and when Vindictus pumped his release, Obi-Wan spurted his as well at the same time.

‘Perfect,’ Vindictus thought. ‘Open, malleable, I can do whatever I want and he’ll be eager for it.’

Vindictus carried Obi-Wan back to the bed and set him gently down. His ass was leaking come so Vindictus courteously wet a wash cloth in the fresher and wiped his lover clean. Obi-Wan liked to be clean between bouts of sex. He could afford to be magnanimous now that he was a hair’s breadth to getting what he wanted.

“Obi-Wan?” Vindictus stroked his lover’s face softly.

“Mmm?” Obi-Wan tried to open his eyes and failed.

“I want you to listen to me, heed me, let my words sink in, envelop you. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan’s head lolled in a close approximation of a nod.

“The pulse of the Force that sent you over the edge?” Obi-Wan gave another weak nod. “Do you want to feel that again?” There was a pause. Obi-Wan’s brow creased. “Didn’t it feel good? I can make you feel that all the time. Anytime you want. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Something in Obi-Wan’s mind sparked. Vindictus felt it, that tiny bit of Light battling the Dark he’d sent into Obi-Wan’s psyche. It grew and spread. Vindictus growled in frustration, arguing with himself on whether or not he should shove his way in and snuff it out.

“It felt good,” Obi-Wan agreed, his voice stronger, his sense of self more aware now. “I’m tired, Qui-Gon. Experiment with the Force later. Sleep.” And he drifted off.

Thwarted, Vindictus fumed for awhile and then he too fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vindictus spends the time waiting on Obi-Wan and the 212th to arrive getting some sun, stealing drinks, and threat-Force choking anyone who complains. He goes back to his little bungalow and prepares for the grand seduction that will bring Obi-Wan to the Dark Side. Obi-Wan arrives, they have reunion sex, Obi-Wan gets hungry, and Vindictus slips a mickey into Obi-Wan's drink, which Obi-Wan doesn't catch. They have another round of sex, this time with Vindictus swirling Dark Side suggestions and tricks through Obi-Wan's mind and on his body to stimulate please while they have sex. Obi-Wan resists, much to Vindictus' disgust. There is a break where we learn Cody, Obi-Wan's Clone commander, has been playing watchdog in case Obi-Wan needs help. Honestly, it's nothing bad, feel free to skim if you're still wary, but this summary is the gist of the entire chapter, minus the hot sex descriptions. :)
> 
> Title from the self-same titled Magical Mystery Tour released in 1967. To me, it’s a very weird album. Too much LSD, not enough LSD? I still haven’t decided. LMAO! Using this title is more in line with the drug use than anything ‘magical’. That and I wanted to use this title somewhere because I think it’s fun. (shrug)


	9. You Know That I'm a Wicked Guy and I Was Born With a Jealous Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of revenge, a temper tantrum, and the gauntlet is thrown down: best side of the Force wins.

Obi-Wan woke with a blinding headache and the sense that he was totally alone. This did not bode well. Last night was hazy. There was blinding hot sex, food, drinks…drinks.

“Farking fuck,” he cursed. He, moron that he was, had his drinks spiked.

“You need your mouth washed out with soap.”

Obi-Wan froze. Qui-Gon. Vindictus. They were starting to get muddled in his head and Obi-Wan was beginning to think that was deliberate. He thought he had the upper hand in this cat and mouse game but now he was getting the impression he’d been outmatched the entire damned time.

He blinked his eyes open and forced a lazy smile to his lips. “Morning,” he yawned.

Qui-Gon/Vindictus’ blue eyes were wary. “How are you feeling? I couldn’t wake you up last night.”

“Maybe lay back on the booze you used in those drinks,” Obi-Wan murmured. “I may be more of a lightweight than I’ve previously thought.”

The eyes remained wary but the Sith Lord’s posture relaxed. “I can do that.”

Obi-Wan swung his legs off the edge of the bed and prayed they would hold him up when he stood. They did. He looked around for his clothes and found them neatly folded on a nearby chair. He began to dress.

“Going somewhere?” There was a hint of discontent to Qui-Gon/Vindictus’ tone.

“You do recall I came here with my troops? I need to check on them. They’ve never had leisure time in their entire lives. I need to make sure they aren’t running amok.” Obi-Wan attempted to tease but feared it fell flat. He had to get out of here. He was vulnerable, in more ways than one. He needed to regroup, rethink, replan.

“I’d like to meet them,” Qui-Gon/Vindictus said casually. “May I come?”

Obi-Wan involuntarily tensed and scrambled for some way out. “How about I organize a bonfire tonight on the beach with all of us? You can meet them then?”

There was heavy silence. A tiny bit of anger filtered from the man standing behind Obi-Wan. “Sounds nice. I’ll find out what kind of food is available that can be cooked over a bonfire.” Qui-Gon/Vindictus’ voice was dry when he added, “I’ll leave you in charge of drinks.”

That seemed like as much of an olive branch as Obi-Wan was going to get at the moment and he took it. “Perfect.” He turned around, teasing, playful smile on his face. He leaned up and pressed a brief but affectionate kiss on the Sith’s expressive mouth. “I’ve got to run before they start tearing the place apart looking for me.”

Obi-Wan walked as steadily as he could to the door of the bungalow, well aware of the sharp gaze on him. He opened the door, turned around and blew a kiss before exiting and closing the door softly behind him. He forced himself to walk sedately down the path until he was a good distance away and positive he wasn’t being followed.

“Cody!” he hissed, falling to his knees weakly.

Cody was there in a flash, incongruous in some hideous flower-print shirt and blue shorts. “General!”

“Get me to a med droid, quick,” Obi-Wan gasped.

“Did he hurt you, General?” Cody demanded hotly.

“Not now, my friend. Medic first, retribution later.” Cody nodded, hoisted Obi-Wan back to his feet, shoulder under Obi-Wan’s arm and helped Obi-Wan make it back to their ship. It was a long walk. He whispered to Cody to tell anyone who inquired that he’d had too much to drink. Cody obeyed, playing it up like Obi-Wan was an idiot who should have known his limits.

Once in the ship’s medbay, the ever efficient, if coldly practical, medical droid took a blood sample and made him breath into a tube for a few minutes. Within fifteen minutes the results came back: Obi-Wan had been drugged.

Cody fumed silently while Obi-Wan pondered this. What was the game? This was a rash move. What did Vindictus hope to gain from it? He wracked his brain, trying to recall details, and when the whispered, honeyed words tickled his mind once more, he sat up with a gasp.

_“The pulse of the Force that sent you over the edge? Do you want to feel that again? Didn’t it feel good? I can make you feel that all the time. Anytime you want. Wouldn’t that be nice?”_

“He’s trying to turn me to the Dark Side!” Obi-Wan exploded.

Cody jumped up and looked around urgently. “Who? Where? Do we apprehend?”

Obi-Wan sank back down on the small medbay cot. “Do nothing, Cody. I mean it. Do _nothing_. If we tip our hand, he’s in the wind and we won’t have the farkingest clue where he’ll go, what he’ll do and who he’ll do it to.”

Cody looked skeptical but didn’t argue.

‘Oh, Master,’ Obi-Wan whimpered in his head to an absent Yoda. ‘The honey trap may be backfiring. What do I do?’

The standard answer filtered to him in a thousand voices of a thousand masters. ‘Let the Force guide you.’

“Fark,” he blasphemed. “Okay, new plan, Cody. How would you like to be flirted with?” It was time turn tables. Vindictus was ruled by his emotions. He’d already shown an alarming propensity for possessiveness. Perhaps give him a jolt that Obi-Wan wasn’t as ‘his’ as Vindictus liked to think.

Cody looked a bit confused. “Sir?”

“I’m going to wine and dine your ass until you can’t see straight and you’re going to enjoy every damned minute of it,” Obi-Wan told him.

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.” Obi-Wan propped open an eye, grimacing as the med droid administered an antidote to the drug still in his system with a rather long needle. “In my quarters is a credit chip. Go shopping. Buy enticing clothes. Look sexy.”

Now Cody looked alarmed. “Um.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to fuck you unless you want me to.”

“No, thank you, General,” Cody said hastily. “I mean, not that you aren’t attractive but…” Cody’s voice trickled off in anguished uncertainty.

“I’m not offended, Cody. We’re going to make the Sith Lord lose control,” Obi-Wan said, his head becoming clearer each second the antidote spread through his body. “He wants me? He’s going to have to _earn_ me.”

Cody’s face turned resigned. “Yessir. I’ll, um, go shopping.” The clone commander turned with a heavy, dragging tread and left the medbay.

Obi-Wan sank into a healing trance. The war was getting dire. No matter where the Grand Army of Republic turned, no matter how hard they fought, no matter what intel they used, they were losing. This was his last chance. Vindictus wants to play dirty? Fine. Obi-Wan doesn’t mind a little mud.

* * *

Vindictus was feeling pretty good. True, he hadn’t flipped Obi-Wan to the Dark Side overnight but then he hadn’t really expected to. That he had a toe-hold in the Jedi’s mind was good enough for now. Over the next few days, he could carefully exploit it. Soon, Obi-Wan would be Sith and his forever.

That was worth a celebratory drink. Too bad he would have to pay for the damned things now.

He strolled lazily to the public beach, bellied up to the bar, ordered himself a couple of diabetic-inducing cocktails and took them to his now favorite lounge chair. He settled back, sipping his drinks and people-watching.

There were a few clones present, looking ill-at-ease in disgustingly cheerful tropical clothes. That amused Vindictus greatly and he found himself chortling as one hapless clone tugged on the hem of a loud-print shirt and scowling. A round of laughter a bit further down the beach to his left drew his attention and he idly glanced over.

And froze.

Obi-Wan was with one of his clones. Obi-Wan was _hanging_ off one of his clones in a very suggestive manner. Vindictus’ eyes widened behind his sun specs as one of Obi-Wan’s hands teased the clone’s barely clothed crotch, eliciting a squawk and nervous giggle from the thing. For a moment, Vindictus was speechless. His ardent, consciousness-losing, mind-blowing sex had been brushed off so that _his Jedi_ could toy with a lab experiment?!

Vindictus surged to his feet, intent on storming over, snatching Obi-Wan up, decimating the clone to his basic atoms with a Force blast, and disappearing with Obi-Wan, never for either of them to be seen again. Reason quickly kicked in and Vindictus reconsidered. As satisfying as that reaction would be, it would definitely hinder his ultimate prize. Obi-Wan would likely get stubborn as fuck and refuse to turn Dark just to spite Vindictus.

No. He needed information. He needed to know what was going on. There was more to this than met the eye.

Vindictus headed back to the bar as if intending to get something more to drink. He slipped behind the little hut, ghosted through the greenery until he was close enough to eavesdrop on Obi-Wan and his clone fucktoy.

“Cody,” chuckled Obi-Wan. “Relax. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know. We’re supposed to be having a good time, recharging our batteries.” Obi-Wan gave an affectionate peck to this Cody’s cheek.

Vindictus managed not to take the clone’s head off.

“General, I mean, Obi-Wan, I-“ Cody turned red and then leaned back into Obi-Wan’s arms a bit stiffly. A hand traced irregular patterns on Obi-Wan’s knee.

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan murmured. “That’s nice.” He whispered something in the clone’s ear Vindictus didn’t catch but caused the clone to reach up and pull Obi-Wan down into a brief kiss.

Red, raw rage exploded out from the Sith Lord, a physical wave of power that upended beach umbrellas, knocked over drinks and empty lounge chairs, and blew napkins off the bar in a whirlwind. Obi-Wan and his clone troopers jumped to their feet. A few arms materialized from who knew where as well as a blue bladed lightsaber. Vindictus, his main bout of fury released, went still, cloaking himself in the Force as he’d done on Geonosis.

It worked. Obi-Wan’s gaze slid passed him.

“What the fark was that?” demanded a clone with a shaved head and scar down one cheek.

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said slowly. He tipped his head to one side consideringly.

Vindictus knew that Obi-Wan knew damned good and well what that had been. Any Force sensitive would have to have been completely stupid not to. He slunk back through the brush, behind the bar currently in a minor uproar, and to his lounge chair. He forced himself to relax, to be invisible, to draw no notice. Inside he was a bundle of frustrated rage. And a tiny bit of fear.

He didn’t draw notice. Even when half an hour later, Obi-Wan teasingly waved off the soon-to-be-twisting-in-the-wind Cody and began strolling down the beach, splashing through the waves rolling in and occasionally picking up a shell or other ocean detritus.

Vindictus followed. He couldn’t stop himself.

About a klick away from the main beach area, Obi-Wan turned and faced Vindictus with a solemn expression. Wary, Vindictus continued to approach and gave Obi-Wan a warm smile he definitely did not feel.

“That was totally uncalled for,” Obi-Wan chided.

Vindictus raised a mock-confused eyebrow.

“Don’t.” Obi-Wan made a slashing motion with his right hand. “Don’t play dumb. You made your move last night. It was a good one. I didn’t see it coming.”

Vindictus didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Did that mean -?

“Now that I know what your proposition is, let me counter one with my own.” Obi-Wan all but slunk to him, raised his hands and placed them lightly on Vindictus’ bare chest. The fingers began to trace teasingly through the crisp chest hair, making Vindictus tremble just a little bit.

“Do you remember the Light?” Obi-Wan asked him huskily. “How it felt to be immersed in it, feel it flow through you like sunlight warming your skin?”

Vindictus scowled but didn’t respond.

“I felt the Dark, Qui-Gon Jinn, last night and this morning and a dozen times before, with and without you.” Obi-Wan frowned slightly. “It was cold, empty, lifeless.” His expressive changeling eyes flicked up to capture Vindictus’ gaze. “Lonely.”

Something clenched in Vindictus’ stomach.

“I don’t know what made you turn from the Light, lover,” Obi-Wan purred as he walked around Vindictus, his fingers lightly trailing on bronzed skin as he moved. “I imagine it hurt, though. Perhaps you felt betrayed. Abandoned. That alone and in the Dark Side was better alone and in the sunlight that just illuminated the hurt. I get that. I do.” Obi-Wan stopped in front of him once more and raised his hands to frame Vindictus’ bearded jaw. “Come back to the Light, Qui-Gon Jinn. You don’t have to be a Jedi if you don’t want to. But you can be with me. Side by side, in and out of bed, for as long as we live.”

Vindictus looked away, torn by the entreaty in Obi-Wan’s eyes and the flashes of memories of the Light warming him deep within. Obi-Wan was right, of course, the Light was acceptance, the Dark was lonliness.

“The Dark is power,” he grated out.

“Is it?” Obi-Wan countered softly. “Has it gotten you everything you want? Has it fulfilled your every desire more than the Light did?”

Vindictus growled wordlessly but didn’t respond.

“Give me tonight, lover,” Obi-Wan whispered, tucking his head underneath Vindictus’ chin. “Give me tonight to remind you of what the Light can offer. If you still refuse, we go our separate paths. We resign ourselves to be opponents to the death.” Obi-Wan tilted his head up enough to place a kiss on Vindictus’ neck. “Can you live with knowing you’ll have to skewer me with your red lightsaber? That you’ll be responsible for my last breath, your Obi-Wan, that you are so possessive of?”

Vindictus shoved him away, sending the Jedi stumbling. “You seek to seduce me!” he accused.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “At least I’m not using drugs to do it, just my sparkling personality and fantastic ass.” Despite the quip, Obi-Wan’s eyes were serious. “Are you willing to take that chance, Darth Vindictus? To have me one more night? Are you so certain you’re on the right path that you’ll pass up this last opportunity to have me in your bed, willing to do whatever you bid?” Those eyes darkened. “To be your Jedi sex slave for one night?”

Vindictus looked about like a trapped animal. Obi-Wan had him and the Jedi damned well knew it. He was obsessed, he was weak and Obi-Wan was playing on that weakness.

He hiked his chin defiantly. If that was the way Obi-Wan wanted to play it? Fine. “A battle of wills, then, tonight.”

Obi-Wan smiled a slow seductive smile. “Done.”

Vindictus leaned in and gave Obi-Wan a wicked smile. “Winner take all.” He turned on a sandaled foot and stalked away without waiting for Obi-Wan’s return remark.

He needed to meditate. He needed to shore up his defenses. He needed to submerge himself into the welcoming embrace of the power of the Dark Side. All the tricks he’d learned from Palpatine and whores throughout the galaxy would be his weapons tonight. Obi-Wan would see. Power. Control. Those were everything.

The Light would be vanquished tonight.

A thought drew him up short. If he failed. If Obi-Wan overcame his defenses and doubts, he is the last Sith. If he turns back to the Light as Obi-Wan predicts he will, there will be no more Sith.

And something, deep inside the soul that was once Qui-Gon Jinn, rejoiced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the very jealous/possessive John Lennon song called “Run For Your Life” from the Rubber Soul album. It’s actually one of my least favorite songs by any of the Beatles. It has a very threatening tone and lyrics, almost sounding on the edge of potential violence towards the woman in question. It always makes me uncomfortable listening to it but I thought it perfect for this chapter. To the T, in fact.


	10. You're Telling All Those Lies, About the Good Things That We Can Have If We Close Our Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MORTAL KOMBAT!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an impatient brat, so I'm finishing posting tonight. Last chapter after work, dinner and maybe scribbling a chapter on my Vampire Knight story. But later, I promise.

Vindictus waited patiently for Obi-Wan to arrive. He’d spent the entire day in deep meditation, shoring up his shields, building up his defenses, and arming his mental ammunition to bring Obi-Wan to heel, to the Dark, so they could be together as they were meant to be.

He just couldn’t shake this little spark of light burning deep inside him. No matter how ruthlessly he chased it down, it dodged, nimble and quick, and continued to burn brightly. A beacon in the darkness that was the rest of Vindictus. If Obi-Wan found that tiny flame, he would fan it, use it to burn Vindictus out and bring Qui-Gon back.

That couldn’t happen. Qui-Gon was a weak fool. He had deserved to die. Vindictus was more powerful, more confident and more equipped to rule a galaxy than some mewling Jedi Master who cried when his ungrateful apprentice turned on him in a fury.

No. Obi-Wan would lose, Vindictus would win. He grinned to himself. And then they would _both_ win. The galaxy would be theirs for the taking. His mind drifted off into a fantasy of the things he could show Obi-Wan once the Jedi’s name was shed for something more appropriate.

‘How can you look at Obi-Wan and see darkness?’ a tiny voice protested in his head. ‘Even his damned hair is a beacon in the dark.’

With a snarl, Vindictus shoved that voice aside and began to pace. He passed a mirror hanging on the wall and stopped, arrested by what he saw in it.

A man, nearing sixty, with crow’s feet around deep blue eyes and frown lines marring his forehead. Long hair, a dark brown was liberally streaked with silver, giving him a bit of a distinguished air. His beard was also sprinkled with silver, the brown a lighter shade than his hair. Deep dark circles hung below his eyes, however, and his lips seemed to be compressed comfortably into a frown. This was not the face of a happy man, a man on the brink of getting everything he wanted.

He reached up and traced his brow, trailing the finger down his cheek. Was it his imagination or did his skin seem thin, almost papery, as if aged prematurely? His nose, broken as a young initiate in a stupid game that got all the participants in trouble, was aquiline, like someone of noble lineage. He didn’t know his parents. Many Jedi children didn’t. Who did he resemble most? Mother? Father? Had he siblings? Did it matter?

Angry at his shift in thoughts, maudlin that they were, Vindictus gave a growl of disgust and turned away, only to be taken aback by Obi-Wan standing a short distance away, watching him with those oh-so-perceptive eyes.

“I think you look very interesting,” Obi-Wan told him conversationally. “That’s a face that’s seen things, good and bad, that’s lived an interesting life. Without this,” and here he waved at his own bearded face, “I look like a sixteen-year-old playing grownup.”

Vindictus said nothing, just watched Obi-Wan carefully, trying to gauge how the evening was going to go. The Force, damn it all, was absolutely no farking help.

Obi-Wan held out a hand. “Come here.”

He couldn’t stop himself. Obi-Wan was a planet and Vindictus the moon that orbited him. Obi-Wan’s hands were smaller than his, but just as strong, made so by a life of hardship. There was no shame in that, Vindictus reflected, but those hands could shape a galaxy to his will.

Obi-Wan smiled at him, no doubt picking up his thoughts. “You were at Kamino, weren’t you, when I was there to first inspect the clones?”

Taken off-guard by the question, Vindictus hesitated.

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Something was off in my thoughts for a brief moment. Like someone else was in my head, compelling me to go against my will. I must admit, I eventually gave in. But it was a hard-fought battle. Gave me a hell of a headache,” Obi-Wan confessed. “When I got back to Coruscant, I went straight to Master Yoda. That was another headache, letting him root around in there, trying to find out if I’d been mentally violated.”

Vindictus winced at the phrasing.

“It’s true and you know it,” chided Obi-Wan, seeing the wince. “In a way, though, you were right. We didn’t really have a choice. Oh, we knew we were being played like a musical instrument, we just couldn’t see the entire battle plan. Even our best battle masters were at a complete loss.” Obi-Wan quirked a grin. “You’re good.”

“Some of that was Darth Plagueis,” Vindictus admitted reluctantly.

“Ah yes, that Munn I found on Geonosis cut into three neat sections.” Obi-Wan, still holding Vindictus’ hand, led him to the kitchen table and sat them both down, Obi-Wan in Vindictus’ lap. “He was Plagueis?”

Vindictus nodded stiffly, reveling in Obi-Wan so close but knowing he was also far away.

“What sent you over the edge that you killed your master? I assume he was the Master Sith Lord?”

The words were pulled out of Vindictus. He knew he was giving Obi-Wan ammunition against him but couldn’t stop himself. “He promised I could have you, that you would be mine if the opportunity arose. Then he sentenced you to death in a public arena. I could no longer trust him. He knew you were no paltry prize to me and he did it anyway.” Vindictus shrugged. “He had to die.”

Obi-Wan looked taken aback at that but thought for a moment before responding. “I see.”

“Do you, Jedi?” Vindictus ground out.

Obi-Wan quirked a small, pleased smile. “Yes. I do. I have a confession to make to even the playing field you think I now have an advantage on.” Vindictus hiked an eyebrow in sarcastic inquiry. “Everyone I fucked after that night on Coruscant with you fell alarmingly short of satisfactory. I fear, only you can satisfy me the way I want. You were a Jedi long enough to know that smacks of attachment. You know that it’s dangerous, how close it brings me to the Dark Side.”

A surge of possessiveness rolled through Vindictus and he hugged Obi-Wan close against him. “You were talking to some clones, watching their combat training. You turned around and I knew in that moment, I had to have you. You. No one else would do. I could slake my lust a thousand times over, but only you would bring me the satisfaction I craved.”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, ruffling Vindictus’ hair a bit as he did so. “We are quite a mess, don’t you think?”

Vindictus decided to try a frontal assault. “You have no idea how powerful the Dark is, Obi-Wan. It’s tantalizing. It’s like touching an electric wire and coming out unscathed. Let me show you,” he turned his voice into a croon. “Let me give you a taste tonight. You will see.”

Obi-Wan pulled away and gave him a long, piercing look. “No.”

Vindictus snarled and made to stand up, Obi-Wan in his grasp and to force it on him but a gentle hand on his face stopped him cold. “Would you rape me, Qui-Gon? Would you get the satisfaction from me you crave if you did as you’ve gotten from my willing participation? Can you risk raping me and having me hate you? Leave you without a backward glance and have my clone troopers barrage this bungalow with all the fire power they can muster and not feel a twinge of regret when I unearth your body?”

Vindictus scowled. Obi-Wan damned well knew his answer would be ‘no’.

“Make love to me,” Obi-Wan whispered in his ear, brushing hair aside as did so. “As rough as you want, as I want. Bruise me, mark me, but I do ask no bloodletting? Not a turn on for me, I’m afraid.”

“Love?” Vindictus snorted the word derisively.

Obi-Wan pulled back and his eyes glinted with amusement. “What else could this be? Neither of us has managed to purge the other from our system. In fact, the more we’re together, the more we want. I think about you, I worry about you, I damned near obsess over you. Which,” he added dryly, “had gotten me whacked with a gimer stick more often than I’d care to reveal.”

Vindictus was arrested by the earnest expression on Obi-Wan’s face.

“What is that if not a symptom of love?”

“Love is for the weak,” Vindictus snapped.

“So say cowards,” countered Obi-Wan archly.

Tired of this inane conversation, Vindictus shut Obi-Wan up by taking his mouth and devouring it with a groan. Obi-Wan returned the favor and hands soon began to roam, to tease, and to torture.

“On the table, against the wall? That floor looks purgatorial but at least I won’t get rug burn this time,” Obi-Wan panted when they broke for air.

Vindictus stood up, set Obi-Wan on his feet, and stripped them of their clothing in record time. He sat back on the chair and pulled Obi-Wan onto his lap astride. He hiked an eyebrow in challenge, to which Obi-Wan wickedly returned.

“Perhaps you should use that handy Force trick,” Obi-Wan snarked. “I’m too lazy to figure out where the damned lube is.” He gasped as Vindictus tendriled the Dark into his anus, stretching him and putting in place a light cushion as Vindictus’ cock filled him. “Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about!” Obi-Wan laughed.

“Shut up and fuck me,” growled Vindictus.

In retaliation, Obi-Wan rose up and plunged back down, sending sparks through Vindictus’ body all the way to his head. Nails raked down his chest, pulling up welts, the pain increasing the pleasure. Obi-Wan fucked him as demanded, scrabbling his fingers against Vindictus’ chest, shoulders, neck and belly.

“Please, Qui-Gon, please!” Obi-Wan pleaded and Vindictus took pity on his Jedi, grasped his cock and began to milk him. It only took a few moments before they were both riding the first wave of pleasure of the evening.

Obi-Wan went limp, but Vindictus was insatiable. Spent as he was, he needed to use Obi-Wan’s desire to please him against the Jedi. To do that, he would have to literally fuck Obi-Wan into Falling. He stood up, Obi-Wan still impaled and sliding down a bit onto Vindictus’ once again hardening cock. It was another Dark Side trick and he intended to use it ruthlessly this night.

He slammed Obi-Wan against the wall and surged up. Obi-Wan’s eyes shot open in surprise, the blue-green almost completely swallowed by the black of his pupils. His mouth opened on a gasp and he wrapped his legs around Vindictus’ waist. Soon the Jedi was meeting the Sith’s thrusts eagerly, little noises of pleasure ripped from him. Vindictus grunted with each motion, reveling in being encased by Obi-Wan’s tight hole.

Obi-Wan grimaced. Vindictus realized he’d stopped concentrating on the cushioning but didn’t care. Obi-Wan liked it rough, he was damned well getting it rough. Besides, there should be enough cum in there from Vindictus’ first orgasm to lube it properly.

Obi-Wan’s eyes were going glassy, his cock hardening again, and Vindictus once again used the Dark against Obi-Wan. Its shadows filtered in, increasing Obi-Wan’s pleasure and sending him over the brink once more an instant before Vindictus cried out and pumped his seed erratically inside Obi-Wan.

Unable to stand up anymore, Vindictus slumped to the ground, drawing Obi-Wan on top of him. His spent cock slipped out and he growled in exasperation.

Obi-Wan murmured a drowsy response but Vindictus was determined to continue. He flipped Obi-Wan onto his back, hiked those deliciously formed legs over his shoulders, concentrated on bringing his prick back to life, and slid home once more.

Obi-Wan gave a primal grunt and his hands scrabbled at the hard wood floor for purchase. “Uh, uh, gods, uh,” he grunted with each thrust Vindictus made. “How-?“ Obi-Wan tried to ask.

“Come to the Dark and I’ll show you. We can fuck for hours, my Obi-Wan, days if you like,” Vindictus panted, increasing his speed. This would be his last time for an hour or two. He could do damage to Obi-Wan if he continued. There were ways of healing tears, but he was in no mood to be that cruel. He was trying to woo, not brutalize. That fun could be saved once Obi-Wan was a Darth and Obi-Wan no longer.

Obi-Wan’s head thrashed violently side to side, but whether as an answer to Vindictus’ plea to turn or just in response to his physical overload, Vindictus wasn’t certain. It didn’t matter at the moment. He tendrilled the Dark once more into Obi-Wan, shoving the Jedi over the edge with a wail that made Vindictus pulse one more inside the tight sheath of Obi-Wan.

He collapsed next to his lover, spent and tired for the time being. He gathered his Jedi close, relishing the smell of sweat and sex. Something made his senses twitch and, tired as he was, he tried to focus on it.

A light, burning like a candle in the darkness, was still aflame not only within Obi-Wan but also within himself. Vindictus gave a snarl of disgust and rolled away from Obi-Wan, flinging an arm over his eyes as if to block out the light.

There was silence. Vindictus was brooding. Obi-Wan finally roused himself to curl against his lover and begin tracing meaningless patterns on sweat-cooling skin.

“What are you thinking about?” Obi-Wan asked drowsily.

“Light.” Obi-Wan made an inquiring noise. “It still burns. Fucking annoying. Nothing I do snuffs out the damned thing.”

“You know, that might be a sign,” Obi-Wan said softly, carefully.

Vindictus moved his arm and gave Obi-Wan a baleful look.

The Jedi shrugged. “Just something to think about. I’m wrecked. You’ve fucked me into complete exhaustion, but this floor is extremely uncomfortable. Have you got enough energy to get us to bed?”

Vindictus obliged, but almost dropped Obi-Wan once. Obi-Wan curled on his side, back pressed tight against Vindictus. “Give me a couple hours,” he yawned. “Then maybe I can fuck the Dark Side out of you.”

He never got the chance. Obi-Wan woke to a bright dawn and an empty bed. Darth Vindictus had run.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he could claim victory, or defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the song “Think For Yourself” from two albums, first on Rubber Soul and later on the Yellow Submarine soundtrack album. Another George Harrison song, but oh so appropriate for this chapter, don’t you think?


	11. Why Should It Be So Much, To Ask Of You, What You're Doing to Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Da End! Happily ever afters ahoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank ALL you lovely people who have been reading, commenting and leaving kudos. I am so happy you are enjoying this bizarre look into the randomness that is my brain.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was in a funk. Oh, he did his job and he did it conscientiously and without issue. No one could deny, however, that Obi-Wan was not really all there.

Cody, and Master Fisto, wondered if it was because the tide had turned. The Grand Army of the Republic was winning. Planet after planet under Separatist rule fell back to the Republic. Peace was sued for sector by sector. Fewer and fewer battles were being waged. The clone soldiers were now mainly being used to clean up war-torn areas, rebuild homes, business and government buildings. Some clones, released from duty, were settling down on various worlds, falling in love, rumors of a baby or two, and becoming what they’d dreamed they’d one day be: just people.

Obi-Wan, however, was not at peace. Every planet the 212th went to, his blue-green eyes scanned the crowds, searched alleys and shadowy alcoves. They were always disappointed, dulling with each passing moment. It was like his spark of life was gone and Cody hadn’t the farkingest clue how to get it back.

He knew who to blame, though. That thrice-damned Sith Lord, Vindictus. If he ever got his hands around the man’s neck, he was going to squeeze hard and not stop until the man ceased twitching. He’d mentioned that desire to Master Fisto, who’d merely scowled and said ‘stand in line, Cody, and it’s a long one’.

That was a bit reassuring, he supposed.

No one, however, was expecting the damned Dark Lord of the Sith to come strolling into camp, lightsaber clipped to his belt, calm, cool, and collected. Rifles, blasters, and a couple of air missile rockets got leveled at him, but the Sith looked neither right nor left, focused intently on the Jedi Master staring at him in total disbelief in front of his tent.

Darth Vindictus came to a halt in front of General Kenobi and then kneeled. His lightsaber appeared in his hands, which made a few fingers itchy, but it was given like a presentation. It took Cody a minute to put it together. The Sith Lord was surrendering.

WHAT THE FARK?

* * *

Okay, Obi-Wan hadn’t seen this coming. To be honest, no one had. He figured Darth Vindictus was holed up in a bunker somewhere, licking his wounds and plotting revenge. Obi-Wan had been fairly certain that he would be foiling assassination attempts until either Vindictus got bored with the idea, died, or just decided to cut Obi-Wan down himself.

Showing up with the obvious intent to surrender was never a considered option.

Vindictus continued to kneel, patient, holding his lightsaber out like an offering. With trembling hands, Obi-Wan took it and Vindictus’ arms fell to his side. Something made Obi-Wan flick the blade on and he damned near dropped it when a green blade, not red, sizzled forth.

“What-?” he blurted out.

Vindictus raised his head. “You won,” he said simply.

“Um, again, I repeat, what?”

“The Light is stronger, you were right,” Vindictus said simply. He looked away as if ashamed. “The Dark has its uses, believe me, and it can be molded into something for the greater good if one is strong enough. But the Light…” Here his voice trailed off. “It can never be extinguished. I buried it but I never truly put it out. You fanned it back to life again.”

Obi-Wan gaped and mustered an irreverent, “Behold, the power of my ass.”

Vindictus quirked a smile. “Something like that.”

Obi-Wan thought a moment, swept his gaze around their audience, mostly clones, but a few Jedi standing at the ready, lightsabers in hand but not lit. “What are your conditions?” he asked carefully.

“Love me.”

Obi-Wan blinked, not sure he’d heard correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

“I request that you love me.”

Obi-Wan tried not to turn into a puddle of mush at that and barely succeeded. “You’ll have to stand trial for your transgressions, Darth Vindictus,” he began.

“My name is Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Stupified again, Obi-Wan gaped before recovering. “You renounce the Sith? You renounce your call to the Dark?”

“Yes and sort of.”

“Sort of?” Obi-Wan frowned.

“After a lot of meditation, visiting the Force Priestesses, and then communing with the Force on my own, I’ve come to a happy medium with the Light and the Dark,” Vindictus, no Qui-Gon, stated in clear, ringing tones.

There was a murmur amongst the Jedi present at the mention of the Force Priestesses. Not many knew where to find them and fewer still had the courage to bother them. They weren’t known to be forthcoming and even less known for being…hospitable on occasion.

“So, like a Gray Side of the Force?” piped up Cody from his position five steps away from Obi-Wan and his, um, whatever.

Qui-Gon raised his head and tipped to the side consideringly. “It’s as good as a description as anything, I suppose,” he agreed. “So yes, the Gray Side of the Force. The best of both, the worst of none.”

“Obi-Wan! You can’t seriously believe this drivel?” snapped out Master Adi Gallia.

Obi-Wan glanced down at Qui-Gon and found the man looking up at him, his eyes crystal blue, steady, sure, and repentant. Obi-Wan reached a hand down and caressed that bearded chin that gave Qui-Gon a most rakish look.

“I do,” he said in response and for the first time, those eyes smiled at him along with that mouth and meant it. When Adi sputtered indignantly, Obi-Wan noted, “If he’s amenable, we’ll bring him before the Council. I doubt seriously he’s taken an apprentice, considering he was determined I fill that role. Think of it, Adi, if he has stepped away from the Dark, that means there are no more Sith. Period.”

Her mouth snapped shut with a click and her eyes turned speculative. She was a strategist, one of the best. Obi-Wan knew she was turning that angle over and over in her head, looking for a loophole. If she found one, they would press it upon Qui-Gon when he was interrogated by the Council.

Obi-Wan, though, was certain he was right. He was certain Qui-Gon had indeed turned away from the Dark as much as he was able. And, having previously killed Darth Plagueis, with Qui-Gon ‘killing’ Darth Vindictus, there were no more Sith.

At least until some moron stumbled across information on the Sith and decided to resurrect the Jedi’s ancient enemy. But that was for the future to worry about.

Obi-Wan sank to his knees, traced Qui-Gon’s beloved face with hesitant fingers and leaned in for a kiss. When he pulled back, he smirked. “You didn’t purposefully forget that nifty Force trick for fucking me, did you?”

Qui-Gon smirked in return. “Are you kidding?” he responded. “I plan on abusing that gift thoroughly every time you step a toe out of line.”

Obi-Wan searched that open, smiling face. “How did this happen?” he asked in a hushed voice. “You left. I thought you’d realized you failed. What changed your mind?”

Qui-Gon’s face lit further with something akin to joy. “I lay there holding you, sated, and realized that if I turned you, you wouldn’t be Obi-Wan anymore, no more than I was Qui-Gon. You would not be that aggravating bright Light in my life but a mockery of it. I cried. I knew I’d lost. I knew I couldn’t continue our battle of wills. Because if I won, I still lost and more heavily too.”

Obi-Wan swallowed.

“And that’s when the Light within me that I thought I’d snuffed out so long ago began to burn the Dark away. No matter what I did, it was there, mocking me, making me feel, making me yearn, and making me,” he took a deep breath, “love.”

Obi-Wan made an inquiring noise in his throat but didn’t interrupt.

“I knew I couldn’t entirely embrace the Light once more, not tainted as I was. But the Dark frightened me, I didn’t want it to be there anymore.” He shrugged. “So, I went to the Force Priestesses and threw myself on their mercy. Once they got the full story, there was quite a bout of laughter,” he said with chagrin, “but they began to show me a middle ground, a way to hug the line between both but not fall back to the Dark. They confirmed I could never fully be of the Light again, but I could repent the harm I had done and rebuild myself anew. They gave me hope.”

Obi-Wan stroked Qui-Gon’s cheek in encouragement.

“I have never meditated so much in my entire farking life,” Qui-Gon said with a chuckle. “The Priestesses tormented me, testing me, irritating the crap out of me, but I remained calm, found compromises to their irritations, and, which I think is rather good of me, I didn’t skewer them.” He sighed. “Not that I could. They really aren’t living on our plane of existence. But sometimes the fantasy was cathartic.”

“And when you were ready, you came to me,” Obi-Wan concluded.

Qui-Gon scowled. “You weren’t easy to find,” he groused. “Don’t you ever stay put?”

Obi-Wan gave a shout of laughter and pulled Qui-Gon to him for another kiss, deeper and with a hint of tongue.

“As much as I wanted to possess you,” Qui-Gon told him with a whisper, “it turned out I belonged to you in the end. Do what you will with me, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, but I do request that love be in the mix somewhere.”

Obi-Wan smiled, his heart full to bursting. “Oh, I think I can manage that easily enough.”

They ignored the hooting and hollering of Obi-Wan’s men as Obi-Wan pressed Qui-Gon into the dirt, straddled him and kissed the life out of him.

In a way, Obi-Wan half-thought to himself, Darth Vindictus did get his way after all. He got his Jedi, but the Jedi got his Sith.

Fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song “What You’re Doing” from the 1964 album Beatles For Sale, sung (likely written by) Paul McCartney. YAY! You survived a Beatles education! Now, go forth and buy albums!!! The power of Obi-Wan’s ass commands you! (imperious wave)


End file.
